


A Mass Effect in the Fallout

by N3kkra



Series: Crossovers [3]
Category: Fallout 4, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Character Death, Comic book Shepard, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Garrus is a synth?, Garrus is an assaultron, I always write smut, I need tags for this, I'll add people as they show up, Infiltrator (Mass Effect), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paragon Shepard (Mass Effect), Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Smut, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect), Spacer (Mass Effect), Synth or alien?, Tags Are Hard, Yes., normandy crew - Freeform, people die, shit happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 60,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N3kkra/pseuds/N3kkra
Summary: Normandy's escape pods land throughout the Commonwealth. Showering aliens throughout the wasteland.





	1. Not in Kansas Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to relax and this idea has been FESTERING in my head for a while. So, here it is, maybe it'll go somewhere.

**Shepard**

 

            Shepard opened her eyes and blinked a few times before realizing she was staring up into silvery-blue eyes of a very familiar asari Justicar. Samara straightened up, leaning back as Shepard cleared her throat and looked around the escape pod. With a numb hand, she rubbed her face and felt one of her old scars open, and even though there was no blood, she knew the cybernetics underneath would be showing.

            “What can you tell me, EDI?” Shepard spoke up, but Samara shook her head, speaking in Citadel Space Common Tongue.

            “All of our tech is down, Commander. We haven’t been able to establish a comm-link with Normandy or the other pods.”

            That caught her attention, flushing out the haze of having been knocked out. It was her own damn fault: she ejected the pod before she was buckled into a seat. A mirthless laugh slipped from her lips with the ‘at least I made it to the pod this time’ thought. “Do we at least know where we are? It feels like we’ve landed.”

            “Oh, we’ve landed,” Kasumi shifted in her seat in the dark corner near the door. She also spoke CSCT, so their translators must have gone down with the other tech. “Thanks to some biotics it wasn’t as rough as it could have been.”

            Samara didn’t take credit for the acknowledgment, but seeing as she was the only one in the pod with outstanding biotics, it was safe to assume she was responsible. Instead, she changed the topic, “There was a breach in the pod’s exterior on impact, but the air outside appears to have had little effect on the interior climate. I believe it is safe to breathe.”

            Shepard nodded and used her grip on an empty seat to pull herself up into a standing position. “What a way to end a suicide mission, huh? On your way back to civilization you get thrown right into a planet…”

            Samara allowed her to steady herself and then lifted her hand to check her vitals with her omni-tool, but she frowned quickly. “There is no network connection…”

            “You said the air is safe?” she cautiously stepped around her and put her hand on the pod door. There were no warnings, and the displays were all dead. Only safety lights illuminated the space. Turning the airlock wheel, she got it open and the pressure inside the pod gave causing her ears to pop. Blinking roughly, Shepard pushed it the rest of the way, and stared out at the sight before her. “Wha–?”

            It looked like a human city, but it was destroyed and left abandoned. Overgrowth had started to take it, but it was slow acting and still looked dead. Buildings were all skeletal and almost no glass was still intact. The cars rusting in the streets were like none she’d seen before –bulky and wheeled rather than designed to glide through the air. The road was cracked with foliage growing through, sun-bleached, and designed to be driven on rather than parked. It also only accessed the ground floor of all the buildings –which didn’t look at all tall enough to be a city she knew. Maybe this was a devastated colony?

            “Where are we?” Shepard wrinkled her nose and stepped out of the pod, her boot immediately sinking into water. Her hardsuit could keep out just about everything, but even so, she felt the tiny prickle of something hazardous penetrating her suit and quickly leaped forward onto the dry dirt beyond. Her brows drew together and she looked at where the pod had wedged itself.

            In the middle of an intersection, shot right over a low building by the look of the pod’s angle. The impacte had been enough to shatter the road and make quite the crater, but nothing too difficult to get out of. Samara was next to come out, using her biotics to lift her easily over to Shepard’s side and Kasumi skillfully crawled along behind like a spider.

            “We have limited supplies, no idea where the rest of the crew is, and are in an unknown –possibly hostile– environment,” the Commander recapped as she pulled the sniper rifle off of her back and checked through the scope to get an idea of their surroundings.

            “I say we get to high ground and see what we’re dealing with,” Kasumi stated and folded her arms, looking back and forth down the roads before nodding her hooded head at a building not far away. “There, that one’s the tallest nearby.”

            “I doubt leaving the escape pod is a wise choice,” Samara offered and Shepard nodded her understanding.

            “But Kasumi’s right, we need to see where we are and the cityscape isn’t helping.”

            “I will stay with the pod,” the Justicar stated but Kasumi shook her head.

            “This looks like _old_ human ruins –like pre-First Contact War. If there is anyone here, you might not be the best face to meet them. I’ll stay here, stay hidden, while you two go on ahead.”

            Both women looked at Shepard and she nodded, “I agree with Kasumi, besides, I might need your biotics, Samara.”

            “Of course, Commander,” the Justicar bowed her head.

            “We’ll be back within the hour, don’t come looking for us, and keep the pod closed.” Shepard traded the sniper rifle for her submachine gun and gave the master thief a pointed look. “And try to keep the window shopping to a minimum.” The woman smirked and saluted crookedly before tapping on her omni-tool, fading away in a pixelated blur.

            Shepard glanced at Samara and tipped her head, she nodded and started forward, taking point. The Justicar set a quick pace with the Commander covering her, her head on a swivel.

            “I find it hard to believe our landing didn’t attract _some_ attention,” she said, pausing to focus on movement in a building. It was just the wind blowing some clothes. She’d never seen styles like that before.

            “If the city was evacuated, animal life would have been left, and most likely scared off by our impact,” Samara provided. This made sense, but there was something wrong with all of this. As they got closer to the building, it looked more and more like whatever was wrong here was still happening, not long gone. “Commander.”

            Shepard stopped and looked forward. Some ways ahead she could see what looked like a barricade with hand-painted signs. It was the first sign they’d seen of life after whatever happened here. The sign was English; she didn’t need a translator to tell her what it said. “Danger Commons Ahead,” she read. As they drew closer, others became clearer. “Keep out. Danger Swan.”

            “What is Swan?”

            “Well, a swan was a bird on earth, they’re endangered now,” Shepard’s brows drew together and she shook her head. “They bite, but they’re not… life-threatening.”

            “That looks like a tank,” Samara nodded toward the mass of metal.

            “A very old one, I’ve never seen anything like it.” It was huge, bulky, and ancient, but the rust and wear weren’t old enough for Shepard to feel comforted. “We should get to that building. Keep low.”

            Shepard took point and Samara followed closely behind. They rounded around the barricade, following the edges until they entered the Commons. It was a massive square with a park in the center, roads lining it with streets breaking off between the buildings.

            There seemed to be less here, it was more open, and light more easily reached them. The sun was just above the buildings, but Shepard couldn’t tell if it was morning or afternoon just yet. The light, nonetheless, shone down onto the park, illuminated large boats in various states of disrepair half sunk in the pond, or abandoned on the banks. Shepard pulled out her sniper rifle and checked the scene through her scope.

            “The boats are shaped like swans. No hostiles yet.”

            Something was floating in the pond, but it looked like a cluster of broken ship parts and trash, so she ignored it and moved on. When she didn’t see anything else, she started moving again, keeping a shoulder to the wall of shops on her right.

            _Crack, crack, crack._

            Shepard froze, taking a knee and Samara lit up behind her, a biotic barrier lining her skin. She scanned for whatever made the sound but couldn’t place it. It sounded like gunshots, but not the kind she was familiar with.

            Two more came followed by a louder, different snap that accompanied a scream. It was very much an intelligent life form, and it got Shepard sprinting forward. The sound came from ahead, around a corner with what looked like more barricades, but these weren’t just haphazardly thrown together, instead, someone had constructed watch posts, and sentry walks.

            She hit the ground, taking cover when another crack split the air. It was definitely gunshots, but she couldn’t tell what kind of weapon.

            Samara took a knee beside her and looked around, eyes narrow. “Movement, your nine o’clock.”

            Shepard looked to her left and saw it, a small group of humanoid figures shuffling around, heads throwing side to side as if trying to look at something or hear a fleeting sound. They reminded her of husks, but they weren’t touched by cybernetics. Each was a withered person in tattered clothes, varying different just as people would.

            “What are they?” she whispered to Samara and the Justicar shook her head once.

            “I could not tell you.”

            Shepard leaned around their cover –a pile of trash with a halfhearted wooden half wall built up to it– to see people circling three bodies of those withered things. One, a man with his head shaved into a Mohawk, used his boot to push one of the limb heads around.

            “We need to get inside before more of them come,” he was saying to the others around him. “Swan might wake up, don’t want that.”

            Shepard leaned back and looked at the twitching bodies. They were slowly making their way toward her and the entrance to the street these people were camped out at. The whole of it had been built up with scrap wood and metal. It was rather impressive considering the state of everything else, but none of the structures would be winning stability awards.

            “I’m going to attempt contact, cover me if things go south.”

            Samara nodded and readied herself. Shepard rounded the cover, moving slowly so that the shuffling humanoids wouldn’t catch sight of her. When she was in the open street, she noticed a little more about the environment that hadn’t been completely visible to her before. Namely the bodies hanging from robes and chains, massive metal structures covered in layers of blood and rust, and the smell of waste and death. She regretted coming out into the open, but it was too late, they saw her.

            “Whoa, who the fuck’s that?”

            “What is it? Some sort of costume?”

            “She looks like a character from a comic.”

            The others ran for cover, but all five of them grabbed their weapons and aimed at her. Shepard lifted her hands, knowing her shields were working at least, and she could grab her sidearm if she needed. Samara did well to keep out of sight.

            The man with the Mohawk came forward, a long firearm with a short barrel lifted to point at Shepard’s head. He was flanked by the other two remaining in the open, one with a pistol and the other with what looked like a bat with nails hammered halfway into it. Blood stained the pale wood.

            A quick once over of each of them and Shepard knew just what kind of people they were. Survivors, yes, but they were savage, raiders most likely. Hostile with little provocation. The only thing keeping them from attacking was her getup, which was strange to them, meaning she wasn’t anywhere near Citadel Space.

            “What’cha got goin’ on there, honey?” the man asked, nodding his head at the Commander. “Never seen goggles quite like that.”

            Shepard offered a smile and slowly lifted her hands to touch the breather of her helmet. Something about the air didn’t sit well with her, it looked… tainted. She didn’t want to breathe it just yet. It was too late for Kasumi and Samara, but she wasn’t going to risk it. “Yeah, I’m not from around here,” she started, getting a laugh from the woman with the bat.

            “No shit,” she snorted and pointed the bat at Shepard in a vague gesture. “What’s up with the suit? Get it from Hubris?”

            Shepard’s brows twitched and she nodded. “Sure, I was wondering if you could tell me where we are, then I’ll be on my way,” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

            Mohawk laughed and shifted the gun across his chest. “You don’t know where you are?” When Shepard shook her head he barked again and looked at the people over his shoulders. “Well, being the upstanding citizens we are, we’re honor bound to help you. Right, guys?”

            “Of course,” Bat-Woman grinned and tossed her weapon onto her shoulder, balancing it with a finger as she let her bloodshot eyes roll over Shepard. When she smiled, she was missing most of her teeth, and those that were there were rotted. Paint smeared her face, skewing her features. “You’re in the Commonwealth, friend,” she approached the Commander, looking her up and down with squinted eyes, appraising her like meat. “The good ol’ U.S. of A.”

            Shepard’s mouth went dry. The United States? Of America? Earth? Looked like… this?

            “What’s wrong, friend? Not what you were expecting?” Bat-Woman used a finger on the chin of her helmet to draw her gaze her way now that she was right in front of her. Shepard wasn’t the least bit worried about her or that bat. It would hurt, but the nails wouldn’t make it through her suit, and if the others fired, her shields were still up and at full strength.

            “Not at all,” she said and took a step back from the woman. “Thank you, though.”

            “Leaving already?” Bat-Woman asked when she took another step.

            Mohawk shook his head, “Nah, come on, honey. You look like you could use a drink. We got plenty inside.”

            _“Shepard, I do not trust them,”_ Samara spoke into her headset. Their short-range comms seemed to work. She didn’t trust her company to reply to the asari.

            “I’m afraid I do have things to do,” the Commander said, backing up another step, trying to keep them from drawing their weapons. The weapons looked archaic, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t hurt or eat up her shields. She didn’t want to start a confrontation if she could help it.

            “We insist,” Mohawk grinned, pointing his weapon at the marine. “Come on inside. Have a drink.”

            _“We do not have time for this, Commander. We have to get back to Kasumi.”_

            “Unfortunately,” Shepard said, resting her hands on her hips, “I really can’t.”

            Mohawk’s lips twitched and he raised his firearm, tucking the butt into his shoulder to fire. Before he could get a shot off, the Commander had her pistol up and pointed at the raider’s face. The man hesitated, startled by his opponent’s speed. Bat-Woman took the chance to swing.

            Shepard barely lifted her arm in time to catch the stick in her forearm. The wood _cracked_ the air with the contact, bouncing off with the force, but her arm was thrown to the side, across her chest. This wrecked her balance and Shepard staggered. Mohawk fired. The shot blurred across Shepard’s shield, leaving it at 90%.

            Mohawk gaped at the sight, knowing that the Commander should have taken more damage than that. The man with the pistol had his own revelation when he fired back-to-back shots that did no damage –that they saw. Shepard was painfully aware the bullets were eating up her shields, though.

            Two more gunmen fired from their hidden positions.

            Samara joined the fray, her appearance stunning Mohawk and Bat-Woman. She shot the man with the pistol and one of the hidden assailants. Shepard finally got off some rounds, downing Bat-Woman and Mohawk while they stared at Samara, babbling their lack of understanding. She got the last one at the same time as the Justicar.

            Shepard took a deep breath and frowned at the bodies. “I tried to be nice.”

            “They wanted to bring you inside. It is likely there are more of them.”

            “Yeah,” Shepard looked around and frowned at the sky. “It looks like it’s getting darker, we should get back to the pod.”

            She nodded but knelt beside Mohawk. “They said we were on Earth?”

            “Yeah, they could be lying. It’s been a while, but this looks nothing like the Earth I know.”

            “If war had ravaged the planet so, you would have been informed, Commander,” she added, looking up at her. She simply nodded and tried to steady her breathing. The asari was taking this far better than she was, but this was her home planet they were talking about, not the Justicar’s.

            “We should go check on Kasumi,” she started walking, not waiting for Samara, knowing she would follow. “I want to know what’s going on.”

            The shambling bodies came around the corner then, attracted by the sound of fighting. Shepard and Samara didn’t waste any time taking them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Shepard and Sole are the main characters, I got two chapters for y'all, lemme know what you think! if you want more! if you want me to stop!


	2. Lost on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole finds a robot... synth... alien? Not alien. Robot. Totes. Maybe?

**Sole**

“It looked like a spaceship, like from one’a them comic books,” Sturges pointed off toward the Red Rocket station. “There were a few of ‘em, but I only got a good look at the close one.”

            Sole ran her hands through her hair and tried to keep the worry off her face. It had already been a long enough 48 hours, she didn’t need to add aliens to the list. Yesterday morning she’d crawled out of an underground Vault to find the world she’d known 200 years older, irradiated, ravaged, and hostile in every way. Immediately, she’d gotten sick from radiation, and almost didn’t make it to her house down the hill from the Vault. Her old Mister Handy had found her crawling through the dirt mumbling about her stolen child.

            Codsworth then got her some pills and attention that got her back on her feet, and by the end of the day, she was able to walk around her house with minimal assistance. The old robot had rebuilt it to look exactly as it had before the war. He’d scrapped pieces of other houses and went down to Concord to replace the furniture with pristine copies. The only thing he couldn’t get perfect was the yard. Though still patchy, it looked far better than any other plot in the subdivision. It had been a sight for sore eyes, and it meant more to Sole than Codsworth could know.

            Today hadn’t been any more relaxing. It started with a dog scratching at her front door –and Codsworth’s very upset chiding. The dog then wouldn’t leave her alone until she followed him toward Concord. People there were fighting, a group of raiders had cornered some civilians in the old museum. Of course, Sole didn’t know the first thing about fighting, so she let the dog take down enemies until she could get a gun and help.

            Six hours, twenty bodies, and a _deathclaw_ later, and Sole was standing in her doorway, trying to ignore the headache she was getting from all the hammering around Sanctuary. Sturges, one of the survivors, had come running up to her door and started pounding on it until she answered. Normally, Codsworth would be the one to answer the door, but he was busy helping the others repair the footbridge that acted as the only easy access to the small island.

            “Okay, I’ll check it out, you said it was by the Red Rocket?” Sole asked, looking off in the direction again. She’d need to pack and change into something with a little more protection than her clothes.

            Codsworth had hooked up generators to the power lines and fixed the water pipes going to the house so as to get water and power flowing through the home just as it had before shit hit the fan. Which meant she had laundry, clean and fresh, just like before. It got her more than one weird look from the dirty survivors. That was fine, the looks were probably the same she’d given everything since waking up from a frozen, two-century nap.

            “Yup,” Sturges nodded and put his hands on his hips. He was a thick thing, muscle on bone under tight overalls and hair slicked up into a pompadour by density and hairspray. Every other movement he made could have been a pose to show off the definition of his arms or the lines his chest made through his dirty white tee.

            “I’ll get on it. Dogmeat’ll be up for it, I’m sure.” She started to close the door, and the mechanic grinned, trying to get some more words in before she cut him off.

            “I’m sure he will be. I’d come with but–”

            The door shut and she didn’t catch the end of the sentence. Instead, she went back to her room and closed the blinds so she didn’t have to look outside into the destroyed streets. Prewar music filled the air from tapes she put on because she didn’t trust the illusion to keep with Diamond City Radio’s DJ constantly talking about the news in the Commonwealth.

            The illusion that everything was the same as before couldn’t be healthy, but so far it’d kept her from completely losing her shit. She defended it as ‘easing her way into this new world,’ of which she knew was bullshit, but she wanted to hold onto what normalcy she could.

            After getting back from Concord, she’d had Codsworth sort her armor into Nate’s drawers and side of the closet. It made it easier to both get rid of his clothes, and still feel like he was there. He would have wanted her to keep arms and armor on hand in a place like this, and what better place than in the stead of his own blue jeans and button ups? It was like he was protecting her. Opening his drawers provided her with some thought of him, even though he had no connection to what she was wearing.

            The vault suit felt wrong, so she pulled on a mechanic’s onesie and pieced leather armor to her shoulders, arms, chest, and legs. Boots were fun to find in her size. Thankfully Codsworth had replaced her destroyed hiking boots with new ones in the same size, and all she had to do was break them in. Once she got a backpack filled with cans of purified water from the fridge and some cooked food in Tupperware, Sole was ready to head out.

            Next to the door, the shelves had been replaced with most of the books and documents that had been there before. A new flag folded up in a display sat beside her burn diploma, the only thing on the white wall that reminded her that the world had ended. She pressed her hand into the false panel next to the bookcase, her eyes on the burned paper. The white board popped out and swung to the side, revealing Nate’s guns. They got less and less use leading up to the war, but it was good to see that Codsworth had kept them safe. He’d also added to the ammo stash in the drawer underneath. It had dwindled by the time Shaun was born, now it was refreshed and overfull. She had to use her nails to pull some of the boxes out from their neat positions.

            With a sigh, Sole grabbed the door and jerked it open. The low light was enough to put her off, but she had already told Sturges she’d go. Red Rocket wasn’t far enough to worry her, or at least, before the war, she wouldn’t have been worried. Now a pocketknife wasn’t enough to scare off a goon in the dark. Especially, when that goon was an irradiated beast two hundred times its natural size.

            Seriously, who made up the rules about these giant roaches? They come out of _everywhere_.

            Sole closed the door and started down the street, her head down at the cracked concrete so she didn’t risk tripping. She’d never spent so much time looking down. It was hard to keep your head on a ‘swivel’ as Nate would have called it, when you had to keep from tripping over trash and dead grass patches… in the middle of the road.

            Frankly, everything was disgusting, but she was doing her best to move past that line of thinking. Nate would say something like, “Eyes on your goal, not over your shoulder.” If only that was helpful right now. Her goal was a couple football fields down a broken road that took her on average ten minutes to walk to before the war, and now took her twenty because she had to make sure every sound she heard wasn’t hostile.

            As if on cue, something exploded.

            It was up ahead, of course, in the direction she was going, and from the direction the cloud was going up, it was probably Red Rocket. A truck or a tank blew. Not the whole station, that would have been bigger and she probably would have felt the shockwave. Probably. She was a lawyer, not a scientist. Physicist? Whatever.

            Dogmeat had trotted up to her side when she left Sanctuary’s border. The bridge was coming along nicely, but still missed a big chunk where a car had driven right through the wooden rail, and time had taken a bite out of the resulting opening.

            The hound walked alongside Sole, keeping close to her as he sniffed the air, his ears lying back. It seemed something was upsetting him. The hair on the back of his neck bristled, but he didn’t growl, instead, he looked around, trying to place something. They were about to crest the hill that would give them a clear view of the station, but, sensing something was off, Sole took to the side of the road, following the guardrail and using it as cover, and camouflage.

            It was a good thing too because something was definitely wandering around the station. All she saw was a blue blur as it passed through the door of the front shop, but it definitely looked human.

            Not that that meant much. Garvey, one of the survivors, had told her all about the ghouls and synths that littered the wasteland. This could be one of them, all dressed up in blue to really throw her off.

            Sole made a disgusted sound and worked along the rail until she was closer to the station. It was a wreck, even worse than when she saw it last. Now bodies were strewn about, most of them giant, naked mole rats, but some were massive mosquitoes the locals called bloodbugs. It was almost an impressive sight, but it reeked something fierce.

            Whatever took them out was a good shot, most of the bodies seemed to have only been hit once. That she could tell, from this distance.

            Now her nerves were starting to wane. Sturges had said it was like a spaceship, but maybe it was a plane? Some pilot –military?– was shot down or just crashed here? She’d heard the impact and felt it, but just attributed it to the gratuitous explosions that plagued the Commonwealth. Now that she was closer, she could see the crater that had caused it. It did look like a ship, some sort of small pod even? The kind that Sci-Fi movies used for escape shuttles when the main ship was going down.

            “Shit,” Sole breathed and tried to slow her heart rate. She was getting ahead of herself. Of course, it looked like an alien ship after someone _told her_ it looked like an alien ship. If she’d found it herself, she wouldn’t have this thought at all.

            Dogmeat crawled forward and perked his head over the guardrail, ears perked like he was listening. She wished she could speak to him, it would help her relax if only she had the comfort of shared information. Maybe she should have brought Garvey, or even Sturges–

            No, she could do this herself, she didn’t need anyone. Nate always told her she was a survivor and that she could make it through anything if she put her mind to it. Well, now she was putting her mind to it.

            “Come on, boy,” she started forward, fingers seated against the grip of her pistol tightly, just how she’d been taught. It wasn’t the only firearm she had, but it was her primary. The shotgun under her backpack was only for emergencies, it had a hell of a kick and was harder to control, especially for her unskilled arm. The pistol was more familiar. Had she known what she was getting into when she went to Concord that morning, she would have brought more familiar weapons, but she didn’t expect to have to deal with a group of raiders and a massive dragon. The power armor the survivors found was great, but none of them had the training to use it, so she had to improvise and use everything that she’d overheard Nate say about it to actually get it going. As soon as she got back to Sanctuary, she’d dropped it at a power armor station and left it for the others to work with.

            Whatever went into the shop hadn’t yet come out, but Sole could see a flashlight whipping around. The movements were almost like the light was mounted to a head, rather than in a hand. That struck her as odd, but she crept forward nonetheless.

            When she was behind the small, single person car crashed into an old tree, she stopped. The light was shining on the shop’s shelves now, but the figure was just a black on black image now. The sun had fallen behind the cityscape leaving a pit in Sole’s stomach. She didn’t have anything to help her see in the dark, and if that flashlight passed over her, there was a pretty good likelihood the user would see her, even behind this car.

            Running her fingers through her hair, Sole tried to steady her breathing and tightened her grip on her pistol. It was a comforting weight. Knowing that it was small and strong, enough to level the playing field in many fights. Whatever was in there, wasn’t immune to these bullets, and if it attacked her, she could just shoot it.

            The radroaches went down.

            The raiders went down.

            The deathclaw went down.

            This thing would too if it comes to that.

            Sole turned around, her left hand saddling up to grip the pistol how she’d been trained. She got one foot forward before stumbling back down beside Dogmeat.

            Light came from the road. Voices followed. The flashlight in the Red Rocket flicked off immediately. That caught Sole’s attention. The visitors on the street weren’t being quiet, but they noticed the sudden light change as well –peripheral vision was good at movement like that. One of them shushed the others and they lowered themselves into crouches to sneak toward the station.

            The light from the setting sun was all but gone, leaving everything dark, but the group had a couple of torches, begging the question as to why they bothered sneaking.

            “Who’s in there?” one of them called, standing up straight and waving his torch. His voice was slurred by alcohol.

            No answer, only a soft clicking sound with some muted growls. It almost sounded like her stomach.

            “’Ey!” he stumbled forward and lifted his gun up. “I’m talkin’ ta you.”

            No answer, but he was definitely looking at someone specific. Maybe he could see the figure from his position, Sole certainly couldn’t.

            “Listen ‘ere, scavver, we’re claimin’ that there fallen star.” The man glanced back at his buddies who all nodded and urged him to keep going.

            Based on how this man was talking, he was most likely a raider. Sole could only make out part of his getup from here, but it did seem to look a bit more rough than what civilians went for. Of course, she’d only seen the raiders in Concord, so she couldn’t quite be a judge of what makes someone a raider or a settler.

            “I’m talkin’ t’you! Get on outta here b’fore I fix t’shoot ya!” the man threw the torch to the ground a few yards ahead of him, lighting up the doorway to the shop that had previously been black. Now Sole could see the highlight of orange flicking across harsh angles of non-reflective armor. It was _way_ too nice to belong to a common raider. “The fuck’re you?”

            The whole group backed up and raised their weapons at the figure in the station. This made them targets as well, as the figure picked up its own gun-looking device and held it up to its shoulder.

            Jesus, it was a weird looking thing. The angles were all weird. It had some sort of crest around its shoulders, up around its neck. To its credit, it waited to shoot until it was fired on, though.

            Sole desperately wished she hadn’t seen the exchange.

            In seconds, the figure was the only thing moving. Bullets seemed to bounce right off of it, leaving it completely unharmed. Even the deathclaw had made sounds of _discomfort_ and it was five times this thing’s size. If she hadn’t seen the armor and the gun, she would have questioned if it was a young deathclaw by the movements. It took a step forward, and the light of the torch showed her the digitigrade contour of its legs. It moved like the deathclaw, but had no tail. Upright like a man, but somehow, prehistoric and futuristic. A seamlessly blended creature cased in navy armor with a quiet, rapid-fire weapon, and apparently superhuman hearing.

            Dogmeat whimpered and the thing turned toward her. Whipping back around, out of sight, Sole took to the dirt and hoped to heaven and back that it didn’t see her. Dogmeat shifted were he sat and looked like he was about to leave, so she grabbed his collar.

            The light flicked on, shining right at the car.

            The shadow left on the hill beyond her showed her the movement of the figure coming her way; gentle bobs from careful strides she couldn’t hear. That was, until it was painfully close and the light narrowed to emphasize the figure was on the other side of the car. The angle changed, shifting as it looked around the vehicle. Dogmeat shifted and grew more antsy, pulling against her grip on him.

            Finally, he whimpered loudly and she bit her lip to keep from making a sound of defeat. She released him and the dog tore away from her, circling the car to the figure. The light spun away from her, toward the dog.

            Sole held her breath, waiting for the shot and cry of the German Shepard dying. But it didn’t come. Instead, there was some shuffling and panting, along with chirping noises similar to that of a cat.

            Startled, Sole rolled around the opposite side of the car and lifted her pistol, aiming for the figure, despite the fear her bullets would do nothing to it just like the others had.

            She’d thought Dogmeat was distracting it, but now she could see that the shuffling was the dog lying on his back with his belly up and the chirping was coming from the figure. It stopped, of course, when she came around the car not-so-quietly, but in the brief second it took the figure to react, she saw what she needed to.

            Dogmeat liked it, well enough to show his tummy, at least. That meant little to Sole as it also pointed its weapon at her. Between the two, the figure’s looked far scarier. It was bigger, longer, and she had already seen it in action. Her pistol fell out of her fingers and she lifted her hands, not sure what else to do.

            The figure straightened up to its full height, but the light shining in her face cast it into a thick glare she couldn’t quite make out. It had to be over six feet, though. Maybe this was one of those synths everyone was so scared of? It looked sort of robotic, and that would explain the armor. The _Institute_ was supposed to be advanced, right? So, that seemed to sum up everything in front of her now.

            The light flicked off and after she rubbed her eyes and worked out the after images, she was able to adjust to the lighting and kind of make out the general shape of the thing in front of her. Several clicks and growls came from it, almost sounding like words, but nothing she could make out. The head of it was placed in that strange bowl, with a long crest coming off of the top of the head behind it, like one of those duckbill dinosaurs. Seemed appropriate considering its legs.

            “Hah… Danger, Will Robinson,” she breathed awkwardly. It made some melodic noises back and shifted where it stood, looking around. It was… talking? But she couldn’t make it out. For a robot, it seemed pretty… human. Then it pointed its gun toward the station and stared at her for a long moment, as if waiting for a reply. “Um, what?” she raised her brows, in an attempt for it to understand she didn’t know what it was saying. She lifted her hands and shoulders in a shrug.

            It motioned toward the station and started walking. She looked between it and Dogmeat before grabbing her pistol and trotting on after the robot.

            “Did you come from the ship?” she asked it and leaned back a little to look at the wreckage.

            The figure stopped a looked at her. She paused and wondered how well it could see in the dark. She made movements with her hands, pointing to it and then mimed a plane flying through the air before smacking into her hand. Then she made an explosion sound and flailed her hands. The figure stood still for a moment, its face pointed at her and she imagined it blinking several times as it tried to figure out what she said. Of course, it didn’t have eyes or a real face, just a smooth blue helmet with a black T that could have been for eyes if there were a set under the metal. Robots didn’t need real eyes, though.

            The figure made a humming sound that was unnaturally musical, resonating in its chest. Then it made more chirps and other noises, nodding its head.

            “Okay, so you came from the ship?” She lifted a brow.

            The figure lifted its weapon and put it onto its back. As it did this, the firearm folded up into a small, compact rectangle. Sole leaped back, startled by the motion. The figure lifted its hands to calm her and she got her first good view of them. Three digits, a thumb and two long fingers, like people when did that Spock thing with their hands.

            Why give a robot only three fingers? Did it only need three?

            She glanced down at its feet and frowned, noticing the boot was split at the end, like it only had two toes. The more she looked at it, the more alien and less robot the thing looked.

            A shudder ran down her spine at that thought and she shook her head. “You’re only thinking that because of Sturges…”

            The figure made a sound and Sole snapped to the situation at hand. She looked at it and then at the room it was pointing to. The figure held its hand out, palm down and flicked its fingers out, like a small explosion. She realized after a second it was talking about light.

            “Oh, that’s not going to happen, there’s no power here,” she said, and a second later realized that the thing had no way of understanding her. “Oh, right, um.” She shook her head and walked inside. The figure followed, not too closely, and watched her as she went to the light switch and flicked it up and down to show nothing change. She shook her head while mimicking its motion for light.

            It gave a single nod and looked around. Spotting the torch, it walked over to it and picked it up. It had almost gone out by now, but the figure waved it back and forth gently, awakening the flames, then it walked over to Sole and offered it to her. She smirked and held it.

            “I suppose we can make a fire, not sure what you want light for, you seem to have pretty good night vision.”

            A few minutes later, she and the robot thing were sitting beside a small fire. With the broader lighting, she was able to see more of its body’s details. It had joints in relatively similar places as her, but its legs were more like if she were standing on her tiptoes and had larger feet. Its calves had spikes on the outsides, but they didn’t look sharp, more decorative, like the crest off its head.

            “You’re a hell of a machine,” Sole sighed, looking it over carefully. “Codsworth would get a kick out of you. I wonder, if you are a synth that is, why everyone thinks you’re so scary…”

            Her gaze drifted to the dead raiders and she pursed her lips.

            “Okay, scratch that, it seems like they have more of a reason to fear you than just you shooting when being shot at.” Sole shifted and tilted her head at it.

            A soft rumble came from its chest, it didn’t sound robotic, but she pushed that thought out of her mind. It was a machine, that simple. It _wasn’t_ an alien. When the sun came up, she would take a look at this ‘spaceship’ and go back up to Sturges, give him a good kick in the ass for scaring her, and… figure out what to do with this thing.

            It seemed friendly enough, maybe it would guard Sanctuary–

            The robot shifted where it sat, hands going up to its head. Startled by the sudden movement, Sole stopped her train of thought and stared as it turned its head at a harsh angle. There was a hiss, and for a split second, she thought it had just broken its neck –a wonderful way to raise someone’s selfesteem by the way.

            Instead, the blue plate came off, exposing a terrifying face beneath.

            Sole jumped to her feet with a scream, trying to put distance between her and the alien.


	3. Plans Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Samara start figuring out what happened to Earth.

**Shepard**

 

            Shepard tilted her head around the pod and called for the thief again, “Kasumi?”

            “I do not believe she is here, Commander.” Samara used her biotics to float into the open door. A moment later, she reappeared with a survival bag in each hand. “All of the supplies are intact, she may have wandered off.”

            “Or been taken,” Shepard supplied and the asari bowed her head in agreement. Shepard took a bag from the blue alien woman and slung it over her shoulder, between her weapons. It felt weird on her hardsuit, but she hadn’t had a reason to lug supplies like this since basic training. Man, that was a while ago. “Okay, we need to find her.” Samara turned back to the pod, her bag already on her back, and closed the hatch.

            “This will not keep out raiders,” she said, glancing over her red-armored shoulder to give Shepard a knowing look. “I could use my biotics to tighten it, but that could keep Kasumi from retrieving supplies if she returns.”

            Shepard frowned and looked away from her, thoughts racing. There was too much in the pod to risk raiders getting their hands on it. And they _should_ find Kasumi before the thief got herself into a predicament too life-threatening. Or, this was a death sentence. With a sigh, Shepard nodded and circled her fingers, “Tighten it up, Samara.”

            “Yes, Commander.”

            She did, and the steel groaned against the pressure. Shepard went up and gave it a tug to check it, and nodded. “Come, let’s check those buildings first.”

            Despite it being dark, there was plenty of light in some parts of the city. The moon was thick tonight with no clouds to hide it. It gave bright, pale light over the skeletal buildings Samara and Shepard picked through. Some had lights that still worked, which shocked both of the women. It seemed like most of this civilization had been down for at least a century. Nothing they found indicated anything less. Some of the technology looked even more ancient, but the power sources and quality were superior to most in Citadel Space.

            “The Council would shit themselves if they found this place,” Shepard grinned and tapped on an old computer. The screen was also the tower and keyboard. Like a laptop in a box monitor. It was huge and heavy, but the screen was clear and all the letters typed easily when Shepard poked them. “Look at this, it’s a journal.”

            “I cannot read that,” Samara said, looking over Shepard’s shoulder.

            “Yeah. Looks like the person was venting about their boss… wait, is that the date?” Shepard’s brows drew together and she clicked on the last entry. Reading aloud, “‘October 28th, 2077. The world went to shit. I take back everything I said about Rory and his stupid theories. I should have paid closer attention to what was going on. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. People are fighting in the streets but who’s going to come in a bookstore’s backroom when the city just got nuked? Well, me, but that’s because I knew the place. Listen, whoever reads this, I hope shit’s cleared up by then. And if not, there’s nothing here but some books. Probably smart for you to move on if I’m not here anymore.’”

            They both turned to look at the dead shambling thing they shot when they came in. “Do you think it was the same person?”

            “No way to know now,” Shepard stood up and tried not to think about the pit in her stomach.

            “The year was 2077 when that entry was written, when the world ‘went to shit’,” Samara tilted her head and touched her forehead. “It would seem that a hundred years have passed, yes? Earth’s years are in the two thousand, one hundreds?”

            “Yes, it’s 2189 now. So, yeah, it’s been a hundred years since the world ended.”

            “It has not ended, Commander, there is still life.”

            Shepard ran a hand through her red hair and focused her thoughts. “Samara, this doesn’t make any sense. This can’t be Earth.”

            “It may not be,” the matriarch nodded and offered a shrug. “We can ask friendly survivors when we meet them.”

            “If,” Shepard sighed.

            “If there is one thing I’ve learned in my time as a Justicar, Commander, it is that where there is evil, there is good. We will find someone to explain what has happened. We must be patient.”

            “Okay, Samara.” Shepard pulled her helmet back on and paused. “Do you think the air is safe? You’ve been breathing it but I only just started….”

            “How do you feel?”

            “Not well, kind of sick in the stomach, like I want to throw up.”

            Samara stepped closer and removed Shepard’s helmet to look over her face. “You are sure it is not this new information?”

            “That’s part of it, but…” she shook her head. Samara nodded.

            “You do look pale.”

            “So do you, how do you feel?”

            Samara seemed to think about that and took a step back from Shepard. “I do not feel I am at my best.”

            “There’s something in the air,” Shepard looked around. “Radiation? The city was nuked…”

            “It has to be. We must find a source of medical supplies. The packs will not last, we do not have enough specific to radiation.” Samara pulled her bag off of her shoulder and started to search through it.

            “There are the other packs,” Shepard offered but Samara produced a small bottle of pills.

            “‘Take two every hour of exposure to radiation.’”

            “How many are there?”

            “Enough for twenty-four hours.”

            Shepard cleared her throat and nodded. “All right. I’ll take one, you take two, you’ve been exposed longer. My helmet seems to help.”

            “Yes, Commander.”

            Shepard stripped her bag off and picked through it to see what all she had to work with. It seemed that Samara was more familiar with what was in the packs, but it was likely she’d searched them or asked EDI upon joining the Normandy crew. Having EDI now would be great. The AI would be able to tell them so much about the planet, even without connection to the extra-net.

            The lack of connection to the intergalactic Internet was yet another thing that put Shepard on edge. At no point had she been this exposed –as in able to see the stars so clearly– and _not_ able to connect.

            “We should test radio signals,” Shepard said suddenly, blinking as she turned to Samara. “We used them all the time on earth before… well, First Contact. Short wave radios and the like. They wouldn’t be able to reach to a ship, but across the city, maybe.”

            Samara brought up her left arm and her omni-tool lit up. Shepard copied, looking at the holographic display telling her at almost every corner: NO SIGNAL. She tapped around to get the radio controls and tapped through some frequencies. Sound crackled and she turned up the volume, trying to make out the words. Then Shepard ticked over to the next station and it blared loud and sudden.

_“Hackin’ and wackin’ and smackin’!”_

            Shepard jumped and slapped her omnitool to close it down. Her heart hammered and she looked over at a biotically charged Samara. Her hand was extended toward Shepard, almost white with the glow of her power. It faded just as quickly as it appeared.

            “What do you think that was?” she asked, her silvery eyes narrowing.

            Shepard shook her head. “It was violent whatever it was.” She turned down the volume before reentering the radio. Now she could tell it was a song, one she didn’t much care for.

            “Music?” Samara tilted her head. “Then someone is broadcasting.”

            “Yeah, I wonder if the DJ will–”

            “H-hey! This is, um, this is Travis, as… as you all know. Well, unless this is your first time listening. Then, huh, then you wouldn’t know.”

            “Speak of the devil,” Shepard looked at her omnitool like it was a unicorn. The voice wasn’t the most charismatic, but it didn’t seem like this wasteland had people lining up for the part.

            “And this, well, this is Diamond City Radio! Bringing you the… well, music. Yeah, it’s just, music. And ads. But mostly music.”

            “Diamond City,” Shepard’s brows drew together. She couldn’t remember there being a Diamond City anywhere on Earth –to her knowledge at least.

            “It must be close, the signal is strong,” Samara stated, looking at the stats on her tool. “It will take some time.”

 

 

            The signal was getting stronger, and the city was getting brighter. It took them several hours and lots of fighting through massive green-skinned giants and more than one horde of human thralls. When she was low on sinks, Shepard simply switched to stabbing things with her omnitool’s blade and fighting with her fists.

            Sometimes she wished she had biotics. Being able to throw people or objects with thought and motion was worth the strain it put on the body. Over time, she may even have been able to use it as effortlessly as Samara or her other biotic crew members.

            Preferring tech and sniping things from a distance, she never felt the desire for biotics long. That was best for close to mid range combat and did not at all favor someone who liked to establish long distance relationships with her targets. At least her omnitool seemed to work in combat. She could still overheat weapons –the effect was dwarfed but there– and it seemed to work on.

            A dark form dropped in front of Shepard and she leaped back, baring her omniblade. Kasumi threw her arms up and shook her head. “It’s me, Shep.”

            “You should know better than doing that,” the Commander growled and relaxed. Samara stepped up to her side and frowned down at the other human.

            “Where have you been?”

            “I caught a weak distress signal,” she shrugged and lifted her omnitool. “I thought it was one of ours, but as I got closer I… just listen.” Kasumi turned her omnitool and hit the radio option. She adjusted the sound and then frowned when nothing happened. “Ugh, it must be too weak now. I think they’re trying to boost their signal, it keeps getting weak though.”

            “What did it say?” Shepard asked.

            “They’re military, asking for ecav or backup to their position. They didn’t say who they were, but I don’t think they’re from the Normandy.”

            “What direction?”

            “Northeast of here. I’m not sure how far, we should be able to locate them by getting closer to the radio.”

            “We were doing that with the other radio station,” Samara pointed out and tilted her head. “We were getting close to this, Diamond City?”

            “Diamond City is a wreck,” Kasumi snorted and cocked her hip out. “It’s a bunch of people living in a Baseball Stadium.”

            Shepard opened her mouth and then laughed. It was a quick thing and she cut it off right away, but she couldn’t stop the first _hah_. “ _Diamond_ City… okay, that was,” she cleared her throat, “Clever.”

            “My thoughts exactly,” Kasumi smiled. It was then that Shepard noticed how sweaty she was.

            “Kasumi, have you taken anything for the air contamination?”

            “The air’s contaminated? That explains a lot,” she tried to play it off but Shepard could see the worry in her eyes now. “That why you still have your helmet on?”

            “Yes, we think it’s radiation.”

            “Oh, yeah, radiation… that makes sense.”

            Shepard tilted her head. “Makes sense?”

            “Haven’t you seen the animals? Some of the people? What else could royally screw with DNA like that?”

            Shepard turned to Samara who shrugged her shoulders. The Commander maneuvered her pack and got out some pills for the other human. “We should go back to the pod. We don’t want to run low on anti-radiation pills and we haven’t found friendlies yet.”

            “Diamond City probably isn’t the ‘friendlies’ we’re looking for. I don’t think we’d be… welcome,” Kasumi’s gaze flicked to Samara. “I haven’t seen a single alien artifact or reference to the Citadel. It’s almost like these humans have been completely left untouched.”

            “There was a war, nukes,” Shepard explained. “At least a hundred years ago.”

            “This is Earth, but it… doesn’t seem like it.” Kasumi shifted her weight and put her hand on her hip. “It’s almost like we skipped dimensions when Joker took us through that Mass Relay.”

            “That’s not possible, we came through the Relay to get to the Collector’s Base,” Shepard shook her head and Samara cut in.

            “Unless we took a different Relay out.”

            Kasumi and Shepard stared at the asari. The master thief spoke first. “You think there was more than one Relay there? Wouldn’t EDI have said something?”

            “EDI is an AI, not all-knowing. Joker’s influence and potential override could have steered the ship to the wrong Relay,” Samara provided and then she shrugged. “Of course, that is just a theory.”

            “It’s as good of one as any.” Shepard turned back to Kasumi. “Do you think that unit can hold out until we get there? Do we have time to go back for more supplies?”

            “I couldn’t tell you, Shep,” she shrugged. “They could be dead already. It was on loop.”

            “Damn it.” Shepard rubbed her helmet and shook her head. “We can’t go in without more sinks and radiation pills. We have to go back. Come on.”

            So, they headed back to the escape pod to get supplies before searching for the soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this is too much fun.


	4. Communication is Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole sees the alien in a literal different light.

**Sole**

 

            The alien looked like some sort of reptile with thick scales and plates on its face. Sure it had something like a visor over one eye, but even in the low firelight, she could see the _organic_ make up of it and knew it wasn’t a robot. It had eyes placed in soft, dark pits, guarded by the plates, and long spikes arching back from its face to the back of its head, a crest just like its helmet but made of several pieces.

            As she backed away, it stood and made noises, clicks and rumbles that were low and quiet, a similar tone she would use to calm someone. It held its hands out low and she realized the position was much like someone trying to look non-threatening. It kept its eyes on her and spoke its strange language quietly. But the way its mouth moved made her spine shudder.

            It had plates instead of lips, and the sides of its mouth were left open, like a crocodile’s. It had flaps that covered the sides that were like… mandibles on an ant, moving as it spoke, flicking out and pulsing with some words.

            She shook her head and pointed at it. “You’re an alien… you’re a fucking alien.” Her breathing was coming in rapid pants, her head felt light. Maybe she hit her head. Breathed something? Maybe this was all a hallucination and whatever caused the explosion had been a gas leak and she was just breathing that?

            But wouldn’t a hallucination be something more familiar? Why would she think of this weird looking alien instead of a little green man? How did that sort of thing work?

            “Why?” she asked it, her voice cracking.

            It came a step closer and she backed up several careless steps, her heel caught a crack in the pavement. Sole fell, hitting the ground hard on her ass. She crawled backward and felt tears sting her eyes. It backed away from her, standing straighter with a strange facial expression. The brow plates were skewed, arching upward.

            She shook her head and covered her face. What was happening? What was going on with her and this thing? What _was_ it and–

            The thing moved away from her and grabbed its helmet. It pulled it back on and looked at her, hands lifted as if to ask _better?_ Weirdly enough, it was. She gulped and stared at it, trying to slow her breathing.

            Sole chewed on the inside of her lip and stood up. Her stress level was nearly capped out, but now she could at least pretend this thing was a robot, not an alien. It sat down beside the fire and waited for her to come closer, barely moving under all its thick armor. Now she could speculate what it looked like underneath it all, but she didn’t want to. Right now, she wanted to pretend it was wires and circuit boards.

            Like her house, it was a reality she would have to face, but for now, she was content with easing her way into it.

            “You… should probably stay here,” she started saying and looked at the bodies. Her nose wrinkled and she ran her fingers through her thick brown hair. “We can clean the place up and make it… less gross for passersby. And we need to make sure you… stay.” She knew it couldn’t understand, but the plan wasn’t for it. “Of course, can’t stop you from leaving if you really want to.”

            Footsteps on the concrete made the metal thing turn and start to stand. Sole spun around and gasped at the sight of Preston Garvey and Sturges coming her way. Her heart leaped and she looked back at the blue armor. It was reaching for the weapons on its back. Sole ran forward and put herself in front of it, shaking her head.

            “No, stop, they’re friendly.”

            “Felicity? We heard screaming?”

            Sole turned and forced up a smile. “Here, Garvey. I’m fine. I found what scared Sturges.”

            The mechanic came forward with the last Minuteman, firelight lit them both up. “I wasn’t scared,” Sturges corrected and froze when he saw the hunk of steel behind Sole. “W-what’s that?”

            Garvey lifted his laser rifle, shock and fear on his face.

            Movement behind her along with the sound of ticking told her that the figure didn’t listen and pulled its weapon. She sighed and kept her hands up, between them. “Don’t shoot. It’ll kill you just like those raiders. It’s friendly otherwise.”

            “What?” Garvey didn’t look convinced. He kept his rifle trained on the figure. “What is it?”

            “It’s… a,” she looked over her shoulder and tried to think of an explanation. “An assaultron. It’s an assaultron,” she turned back to them and shrugged. “An experimental model. My husband–” she choked on the word but forced herself through it, “he told me they were testing a new kind of assaultron that was faster and… more,” she glanced at it again. “Human-like.”

            “It doesn’t look like any assaultron I’ve ever seen,” Sturges held his pistol to the ground, but she could see it shake.

            “There weren’t many made.”

            “How’d it get here? Why isn’t it hostile? Most I’ve seen that weren’t with Gunners were set to kill, like the Mr. Gustys.” Preston started to shift around Sole’s side to get a better view of the thing. She sidestepped, arms still up to skew the view.

            “I think this one was a space model and the pod it was deployed in finally crashed. You said it’s been 200 years right? It’s been in space that whole time, as far as it knows, we’re Americans and we’re on its side… _until_ you shoot it. Like those raiders.”

            The lies were flowing so easily she almost believed them herself. She hoped neither man thought too hard about it, and by their expressions, they seemed to want to believe her as much as she wanted them to.

            Sturges cleared his throat, “So, it was a spaceship, just… not an alien.”

            “Yeah,” she shrugged. “Looks like it.”

            Preston lowered his musket and looked around the station. “It really did a number on the locals…” he scrunched his nose as he pushed a mole rat with his boot.

            “Yeah, I’m going to come back in the morning and clean up. I think… I think I’ll make this a little base for it. Maybe it’ll help protect Sanctuary while I find Shaun,” she looked over her shoulder at the blue metal. It lowered its gun, but still had it across its pointed chest.

            Assaultron wasn’t too far of a stretch since it had a narrowed waist with flared hips and a sturdy torso. The joints of its armor looked like that of the familiar war machine’s. It even had three fingers, but instead of acting as terrifying claws, they were hand like.

            “You guys go back to Sanctuary, I’ll make sure it sticks around during the night.”

            Garvey and Sturges lingered a few moments longer. Sturges insisted on waiting and walking back with her, but she promised she’d be fine since she had Dogmeat. He reluctantly followed Garvey back to the footbridge and Sole finally turned back to the cause of her current headache.

            “I don’t suppose I could convince you to stay inside the store all night?” she asked and pointed to the shop. Its head tilted to the side and she decided to try their hand signals again.

            She pointed at him and then the shop and mimed sleeping with her hands under her cheek as she cocked her head and closed her eyes. She even added a snore for good measure. The figure shifted and nodded once and then pointed at her and then the shop. She shook her head and jerked her thumb over her shoulder back to Sanctuary.

            The blue armor touched its chest and pointed over her shoulder with a tilted head. She shook her head no and pointed at it and the station.

            The shoulders on it sunk a little and it nodded once. Without waiting for more from her, it put its gun on its back and started toward the store. Suddenly, she felt bad, but the image of what it looked like under the helmet came back and she shuddered, rubbing her face with shaky hands. She needed to sleep. It was almost midnight, if not a little past.

            Sole checked her Pipboy on the way back to Sanctuary. When she made it to her room she was gripping the holotape Codsworth gave her from Nate. She hadn’t had the chance to listen to it just yet, but now it was all she could think about. Even with everything that had happened at Red Rocket. She knew he would have something to say about it, but this holotape was the best she had.

            Ten minutes later, she was curled up in her bed, sobbing into her pillow while Codsworth hovered outside her door, patiently waiting on her answer to his question: are you okay, m’um?

 

 

            Sole woke up with crusty eyes and a splitting headache. Codsworth had come in during the night and opened the windows so there was no pretending she was back before the war. So, she just lied there, staring out the window as Garvey patrolled the streets and Sturges hammered some walls into submission.

            She probably stayed like than an hour before she finally remembered Red Rocket. Surprisingly, she didn’t have a nightmare about it. Her dream had been relatively unrelated to the events she’d been through for the last three days. She thought she’d have nightmares for months, but last night was just like the dreams she had before the war.

            Once she was dressed in a pair of black cargo pants, a tank top, old scarf, and her work boots, she walked into the living room. Codsworth had breakfast ready –eggs of some sort, with bacon of some sort, and toast from homemade bread with jam of some sort. She thanked him and went to the false panel to pick out a weapon as she spoke. “Can you pack it up to go? I’m going to Red Rocket to clean up and see if I can get a little base set up down there. I don’t like the idea of leaving the space unused when it’s so close to Sanctuary.”

            “Of course, m’um! Would you like me to pack you a lunch as well?”

            “Please, make it two.”

            “Oh, for Dogmeat?” the robot spared her an eye as he buzzed around the kitchen to get some Tupperware.

            “Um, no.” She decided on the ten millimeter because it was easy to shoot and had a lot of ammo. Worse comes to worst, no weapon she had would take down the blue figure, so she didn’t have to weigh herself down in anticipation of a fight. And if anything attacked the station, it should defend at least itself, if not her as well.

            Hopefully, it liked the food Codsworth made.

            “Here you go, m’um,” the Mr. Handy offered her a nice lunchbox big enough for three meals. She’d used it in college but since then it had been in the back of their ‘junk’ cabinet that Codsworths insisted they organize. “Shall I accompany you?”

            “No, stick to Sanctuary and help out. Also… keep Garvey and them here, I don’t want any surprises down there.” She put the strap over her shoulder and gave a smile, going to the door.

            “Mrs. Felicity…”

            She had her hand on the doorknob but didn’t look back when she answered the unspoken question. “I’m fine, Codsworth. Really.”

            He disliked her lie but didn’t say anything. Sole stepped out into the morning sun and sucked in a long, slow breath. On the way, she popped a Rad-X with a gulp from a can of water.

            Sturges was weeding the Sanctuary sign and jumped to his feet when she passed by. He was smiling, wiping off the dirt on his hands as she tried to look busy with her Pipboy.

            “Felicity, slept in today, did ya?” he commented. She stopped when he stepped just far enough in front of her to imply he wanted her to stop. She looked up and forced a grin.

            “Yeah, didn’t sleep well though.”

            His smile fell and he moved a little closer, looking over her face with some concern. “You look exhausted. Like when you first got to us in the museum.”

            “I feel about like when I met you,” she breathed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. “Listen, I’m going to Red Rocket to get that assaultron fixed up with somewhere to power down safely. Maybe add a bed for someone to spend a night or two down there.”

            Sturges chuckled and put his hands on his hips, spreading his chest wide and really straining that little tank top. “Gonna move outa Sanctuary, Felicity? If it’s us, I’m sure I can mention something to Preston–”

            “It’s mostly the hammering,” she stated and then stepped around him, really wanting to get to the station down the road. Whatever reaction Sturges had was a quiet one, so she made her way on down the road with Dogmeat trotting happily beside her.

            She was half hoping the blue thing would be gone, and half fearing it would be. Sole wasn’t sure what she’d do in either situation. Obviously, it needed food, seeing that it was alive. No amount of pretending was going to get that picture out of her mind, and since she’d woken up to the destroyed world, it seemed today was going to be a good day. No major freak-outs.

            What was there to freak out about now? She had checked pretty much all the boxes. Time travel. Family murdered and kidnapped. Apocalypse. Nuclear War. Aliens.

            Honestly, at this rate, she probably couldn’t be surprised anymore.

            Red Rocket was silent. It had been cleaned up, all the bodies were gone and it didn’t even smell so they must have been taken a decent distance away. As nice as that was, it didn’t look like the blue thing was up moving around. This made Sole tense up and she worked her way toward the storefront.

            There it was, lying on the ground, motionless. She would have thought it was sleeping if it hadn’t looked like it fell face first into the ground.

            Sole ran forward and pushed it onto its back. She used her knees to support its head so it didn’t dangle funny. A soft groan came from within the helmet and she felt a breath of relief leave her, but she didn’t know what else to do, she didn’t know what was wrong with it.

            It lifted a hand and reached past her, toward a black bag. She slowly pulled away and eased its head down to the ground. It was tilted up as far as it could with the helmeted spines on the back of its head, trying to watch her.

            She grabbed the bag and looked it over, brows drawing together at the oddly human design of it. The whole thing was black with orange and white accents, an emblem she’d never seen before was patched to the top. She brought it back to the blue creature and sat down on the broken tile floor so she could pick through the bag.

            The pack might have looked human, but everything inside of it was utterly foreign to her. There were squares and cylinders with glowing lines on them as well as numerous pill bottles all written in a language that looked something between Chinese and Hieroglyphics. Her brows lifted and she continued to pick through the layers of the pack. It had a divider that pulled away from the back to show a few tins of water, much like what she had but rather than rounded they were boxed to better fit together. There was also what may have been packs of jerky. She pulled the next layer away and found a sheet of glass with a metal frame. She didn’t know what to make of that, so she flipped back to the front and held it to the blue thing.

            “What do you need?” She took its hand and put it into the bag. Sole tried to adjust its head so it could see into the bag better.

            It fumbled for the pills and then tapped its pointed finger along them. A wheeze pulled from it and Sole gasped. She leaned in to look at the labels, they should have pictures right? What did it need? What was wrong with this thing?

            Dogmeat whimpered and pushed her arm but she waved at him and picked up one of the pill bottles. It didn’t have any symbols she recognized. Dogmeat nudged her arm and pawed her. She looked and he rolled a Rad-X bottle to her. Her brows jerked high and she remembered how she felt leaving the Vault, and still felt if she went too long without taking a pill.

            “Oh my God, I’m an idiot,” she growled and grabbed the pill bottle. Then she turned back to the thing lying up against her lap. Her heart hammered and she imagined the face underneath the helmet. It was going to be terrifying. She could clearly remember the angles and the teeth, the way the firelight flickered across it and…

            She shook her head and tried to find a way to release the helmet and get it off. This thing was going to die if she didn’t help it. She could be appalled by how ugly it was when it wasn’t dying.

            It was breathing slower now, but not less labored. The wheezing was sickly and flanged with an echo that she didn’t understand. “Come on, help me out,” she grabbed its hand and held it to its helmet so it could give some assistance. She didn’t want to hurt it by trying to take this thing off.

            Its fingers brushed something and there was a hiss. She turned the helmet like it had last night and eased it off.

            Now she could see its face. It looked so different from last night. In the dark, with the fire, it had been terrifying and predatory and alien, but now it looked… sick.

            The pale tan skin of its neck was tinted green in a way she doubted was healthy, and there was a smell coming off of it that may have been sweat, or something else. It didn’t look wet, but the face it was making was very similar to her ‘I’m about to hurl’ one. It sucked in a breath and coughed, the mandibles on the side of its mouth flapping wide. It was then that she noticed it had a patch on the side of its face, it looked like cloth with some wires running through it.

            It stared up at her with small blue eyes sunk deep in black flesh surrounded by silver plates. Those plates were painted blue with artistic streaks that had to be tattoos because her thumb ran over one and it didn’t smear.

            When it coughed again, she grabbed a pill bottle and her water, then remembered this thing was an alien and decided to use the water from the pack instead. Because of the spines on the back of its head, it couldn’t rest its head on the edge of her leg and face upward, so she shimmied closer, tucking her thigh under the back of its neck and allowed the spines to press against her inner thigh. It opened its mouth, flaring its mandibles when she held the pill above it. Her brows drew together and she tried not to look too hard at the rows of needle teeth lining its gums. Or the weirdly long, pointed tongue.

            She dropped the pill past the plate lips and unscrewed the bottle to pour the clear liquid –she still assumed was water– into its mouth.

            It got messy. She didn’t know how to help the poor thing, but it coughed and hacked, spilling water out the sides of its open mouth. She wasn’t sure how it could have possibly drunk liquids cleanly, but she didn’t think too hard about it now.

            It finally settled down and took a couple deep breaths with its eyes squeezed shut. She felt bad and didn’t know what else to do as she stared down at it. It still had that blue visor over its left eye making her wonder what it did. Her fingers brushed over the lines of its face and then the patch on the right side. She could see the plates were scarred there, where the patch didn’t completely cover it up. The mandible on that side was significantly damaged, but the patch didn’t come far enough forward to cover that. Something happened to it, and whatever it was, it had gotten past whatever blocked the bullets, it broke the bowl of its armor, cracking the front and putting a hole in the back. Her heart actually ached a little as she looked at the wound.

            Then she realized it was staring at her and she jerked, looking away and clearing her throat. A soft sound came from it, melodic and laughter like.

            “You’re laughing at me?” she asked, lifting a brow at it. “Really? I save your life and you laugh at me?” She shook her head and sighed, running her fingers through her hair. It said something and she huffed. “I can’t understand you.” For all she knew it was saying that exact thing.

            It hummed and clicked a few times, and closed its eyes. She frowned and looked around, trying to think of what to do now that the threat of death was over and her legs were falling asleep. Dogmeat was trotting around the station, picking up stimpaks and other things, bringing them to her before running off again. Sole shifted as slightly as she could under the blue painted alien.

            “I need to give you a nickname or something, I can’t just keep calling you… thing,” she sighed and looked down at it. “I wish I knew if you were male or female… or you know, something else. I won’t judge, I just… well,” she was rambling, but couldn’t stop. Especially now that it opened its eyes and peeked at her through narrowed lids like it had a headache. There was no annoyance in its stare though. “Your kind might not even follow the same concept of male and female, or maybe you’re both, neither? I don’t know. I would just… I would feel better not calling you ‘it.'”

            It shifted some and groaned. The sound resonated in its chest and it slowly sat up. She touched its shoulder, helping it as she stood. It eased its way onto its feet. She took another look at them. They were as big as hers, but it stood only on the balls of its feet. The way the armor was shaped, she could imagine limbs with defined muscles, probably covered in the same plates as its face.

            It hummed and looked at her. It didn’t have white sclera like humans, instead, the iris was circled with black to blend in with the dark skin around them. It was easy to be scared by the look if it, but now that she could see all of it in the even light of a morning sun… it wasn’t so bad. Maybe the shock had just worn off.

            The alien used the wall for support as it leaned down to grab the backpack. She beat it to it and zipped it up, offering it over and the creature nodded its head in what she thought was thanks. It was funny how it seemed to know human customs, or at least understand them. Then it bent and snagged its helmet. She felt a pang of guilt for hoping it would put it back on.

            Sure, she was getting used to the idea of the alien, but she wasn’t exactly comfortable around something with so many teeth that looked scarier than a shark’s. It couldn’t bite her if it was covered up.

            It didn’t take her long to realize that thought process was stupid and she was _actually_ worried about Garvey or Sturges coming down and seeing this thing without its helmet on. Getting caught in a lie with ‘new friends’ isn’t safe in the wasteland. As much as she tried to avoid them, having them as allies was safer. Especially, since she was looking for Shaun.

            That made her heart ache.

            She gripped her chest and tipped her head, thinking about the three-month-old baby that was ripped from her husband’s arms. The gunshot was so loud, it hurt her ears even in the pod, and it made Shaun scream so much louder–

            Something touched her shoulder and Sole jumped back, her breath coming in rapid huffs. She flung her arms up and smacked away the alien’s concerned grasp. It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in danger, and this thing wasn’t the immediate threat. It stepped away from her and lifted its hands. It had put the backpack on, but now it put its helmet on, maybe thinking she was uncomfortable with its face.

            This time it didn’t help her freak out. She couldn’t breathe. Sole turned away from it and went out the door, grasping at her chest, at the scarf around her neck. She pulled it off and tossed it aside. She was hot, sweating. It felt like a weight was on her chest and she couldn’t get it off no matter what she did.

            She hit her knees outside and let the tears fall down her cheeks and she gripped the chest of her tank top and held her hair off her neck with the other hand. Dogmeat came up to her and sniffed at her, she groaned and waved at him, trying to get him away. It was too much, he was too close, she couldn’t breathe if he was so close.

            Heavier footsteps alerted her to the alien coming her way. She shook her head and let out a sob. It wasn’t helping. It was making things worse. This was its fault.

            The alien slowly went to its knees in front of her. She looked at it and watched as it waved its arms up toward its chest and then down slowly. As it did this, it took in a deep breath and let it out, loud enough she could hear it.

            It clicked with a soft purr.

            It was telling her to breathe.

            She wanted to laugh at it, but instead, she sucked in a deep breath with it as it made the motion again. She held it while it did, and let it out with the alien. They sat there for several long breaths and Sole felt her shoulders relax.

            She was suddenly very aware of the sweat on her skin, and the chilling, October morning air. Sole looked around and grabbed her scarf, shaking off the dirt before wrapping it around her neck. Then she looked back at the alien. It still knelt in front of her, putting it on her level.

            “Thank you,” she said and tried to think of a way to mime it. When nothing but sign language came to mind she sighed and stood up. It waited, looking up at her. “You’re an angel.”

            That made her pause and she smiled just a little.

            Sole touched her chest and said, “Felicity.” The alien stood and tilted its head, so she repeated herself. It nodded and touched its chest, made a couple of clicks and a growl, then gestured to her and made a sound that _almost_ sounded like ‘alisity’. It resonated in its chest and she grinned. “Try again, Felicity,” she touched her chest.

            It rumbled and said, “Elicity.” It didn’t have the lips to form the _f_ and the _c_ came out more like a hiss, but it was pretty damn close.

            “Shit, that’s…” she smiled and then pointed to it. “And you are?”

            It growled and clicked. She didn’t have a hope of saying it.

            “How’s Angel? Works for either sex,” she still wasn’t sure what it was, but she’d heard the name used for people as well as pets and terms of endearment. She gestured to it and said, “Angel.”

            It stood still for a moment and then nodded once. It pointed to itself and said, “Enjel.”

            Her smile spread wider. “Perfect.”


	5. I'm Not From Around Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard meets one Paladin Danse. Unfortunately, she and her squad also get stuck in a rough situation.

**Shepard**

_“This is Scribe Haylen of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range. Authorization Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties and we're running low on supplies. We're requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station. Automated message repeating...”_

            Shepard snuck by the crippled car frame, her sniper rifle scanning the streets. It was quiet, but the kind of quiet that happened right before shit hit the fan. She knew it too well, and so did her company.

            Samara covered the Commander, body taking on a faint blue glow from her biotics. Kasumi was somewhere around the immediate vicinity, keeping an eye on everything from a safe distance.

            Visibility was low with a thick fog covering the dead streets. Up ahead, there was a compound built up with fortifications that reeked of death. The deformed humans were all over the place, burnt holes in their center mass with miscellaneous fire in the limbs. There were also piles of ash blowing in the gentle wind, red mist swirled around the piles like smoke.

            Shepard led the way into the compound, taking care not to disturb any of the bodies. Some of them didn’t have damage that she could see, but they lied side by side with the others, just as dead. Something else may have killed them.

            The Commander and Justicar split up once they entered under an arch. There were sandbags and impromptu barricade materials mixed together making up the wall that divided the Cambridge Police Station from the rest of the town. Part of the wall was smoking and small fires trailed to a massive truck outside the compound. Its front was bent open like the reactor had blown. Or… engine? Whatever made it run.

            A man dressed in military fatigues hung over the railing of the wall with a thrall at his feet. Another man was face down against the blue doors of the station. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit with cream accents. As Shepard got closer she noticed he was torn open in the side, his guts spilled out under him. Based on the smears and handprints, some of the thralls had been eating it. His shaved head had bite marks as well. Two thralls lied on either side of them, still as the dead with bloody fingers and mouths.

            Shepard turned to locate Samara and Kasumi, but another body caught her attention. Dressed like the man in fatigues, the woman’s uniform just bore different colors with a cross on her shoulder. It told Shepard she was a medic, that and the first aid kit she was clinging to. Her throat had been ripped out and she was missing a leg at the thigh. Her pants were torn and so were her sleeves. Her torso was the only thing that remained untouched, the armor seeming too much for the thralls.

            The Commander’s nose wrinkled and she straightened up, looking for her squad. The asari was kneeling in front of a pile of metal. With the thick fog, Shepard hadn’t noticed it lying over a pile of trash beside the station’s steps. As she came closer, she could see it was a suit of armor, twice the size of a human, but looked as earthen as it could.

            “I believe the driver is still alive,” Samara whispered, her words barely above a breath. “It seems power was lost to the suit,” she indicated with her finger some places were the armor had been ripped away and cords were showing. “This technology is nothing like I’ve seen before.”

            Shepard looked at the helmet, leaning in close to look at the neck and find a release. As soon as she moved the face to get a better look, there was a gasp from within and the whole thing shook as the being inside tried to move the heavy weight.

            Samara backed up and lit up, prepared to defend herself and her Commander, but the space marine didn’t move. She simply held still with her hands up to show she wasn’t a threat. “I can help,” she said and nodded to it. “Do you need help?”

            The helmet shook side to side, but it didn’t look like it was saying no, more like it was looking around. It froze when it faced Samara. Fantastic, it didn’t seem to know what asari were either.

            It tried to move and Shepard lifted her hands. “Let me help you,” she pulled up her omnitool and tapped on it so that it brought up the radio. “You requested support or evac, right?”

            “ _…Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range. Authorization Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties...”_

            “They’re all dead,” a deep voice came from the helmet, distorted slightly. He sounded wounded, but not just physically.

            “How many were in your squad?” Shepard shifted so she was between him and Samara. When he didn’t reply, she removed her helmet and repeated the question with her  _Commander_ voice, “Soldier, how many were in your squad?”

            A pause and he sucked in a breath, “Four of us this morning…. The ghouls… we couldn’t stop them. Too many.”

            Ghouls. That’s what the thralls were called. Shepard looked around at all the bodies. Two men, a woman, and the survivor. Four. He was the last one.

            “You got some nice armor here, tell me about it while we try getting you up,” she said and shifted to look at it. He needed to think about something other than the dead.

            “It’s a, uh, T-60 full armor set on a Brotherhood issue frame.” His voice was shaky and his helmet swayed as he looked around. “I’ve modified the leg actuators to allow for faster movement.”

            “A mechanic then?” she smiled at him. Her green eyes flicked between the tinted glass shields that blocked his.

            “On the side.”

            “Soldier first,” she nodded her understanding. “What’s your name, soldier?”

            “Danse. Paladin Sebastian J. Danse, ma’am.”

            She tried not to let her surprise at his rank show on her face. “All right, Danse. Help me get you out of this.” Shepard stood up and tapped on her omnitool, scanning the suit for any information she could get.

            “What is that?” he asked, tipping his chin at her.

            “We have a lot to talk about, Danse. And here isn’t the place.”

            “Commander.”

            Shepard stiffened and grabbed her pistol from her hip. She fired on the ghoul beside the dead man in the jumpsuit. Its head popped and it fell down, back in place. The one beside it threw itself to its feet and looked right at her, split lips pulled back to show bloody gums and missing teeth. It hissed and threw itself at her.

            She fired again.

            The bodies started getting up, the ones that looked dead but were unharmed. Samara threw them around with her biotics and Kasumi appeared out of nowhere, taking them down with her pistol or omniblade.

            Shepard didn’t have her helmet on, but she knew the ghouls wouldn’t be able to get her out of her hardsuit. Well, it would take a lot of them work at it for that to work, she thought as she looked at the state of the Paladin’s armor. His was metal and hers was ceramic and metal. He didn’t have mass effect fields generating shields, though.

            Not that that was going to help with targets moving so slow. Her shields wouldn’t block an incoming krogan, nor would they stop a ghoul’s club arm coming down on her head.

            Shepard fell when a ghoul leaped at her from behind. It took her right down onto the Paladin’s armor. She struggled against the angle of the feral being. It snapped its teeth at her neck, trying to get past her hair. Throwing her head back, Shepard cracked their skulls together –barely feeling it thanks to Cerberus. It flopped backward.

            Danse moved, his armor grabbing a clunky looking piece of metal she now realized was a gun. He got his fingers around the trigger with some effort and fired several times. One of the red lasers hit the ghoul in the knee, drilling right through the narrow joint so that it fell down.

            When he fired again, the ghoul’s head flopped to the ground. He let out a huff, having exhausted himself with the movement. Shepard patted his chest plate, noting the insignia there, and stood back up.

            Samara had a group of the ghouls smashed together with blue light, their bodies popped and cracked under the pressure. Kasumi had them chasing shadows as she killed them from behind. But as good as they were, there were a lot of the ghouls, and more came from outside the compound.

            “Where are they coming from?” Kasumi shouted and jumped over the railing of the wall. She took two to the ground, smashing their faces against the concrete.

            “The town,” Samara hissed and used her biotics to pull the truck in front of one of the openings. It crushed a couple bodies, but it stopped the flow drastically. Now the ghouls had to circle to the side entrance they’d used to get in. It bottlenecked them and made a ripe kill zone for the three women standing with firearms waiting.

            “I’m running low on sinks,” Shepard barked and switched to her sniper rifle when her pistol clicked overheated. She retreated to Danse’s side and positioned herself next to him so she could use her scope.

            “There are too many,” the Paladin groaned.

            “We’re going to get you out of this,” she promised him and fired. Two dropped, sharing the bolt.

            “Have… have to get inside.”

            “Is it secure?” she asked and fired again, one flew backward, tripping two others down the steps.

            Samara used her biotics and pushed those in the front back. Kasumi was out of sinks, using her omnitool to pick off those that got passed Samara while she waited.

            “More than here,” Danse replied.

            “Fair enough,” Shepard lifted her rifle and it folded up, allowing her to tuck it out of the way. Then she went back to Danse’s side. “How do I get you out of this?”

            “It has a release, but I… my arm’s…”

            “Where’s the external one? There has to be one, right?”

            “On the back.”

            “Samara! Get him upright!” she called over her shoulder in Citadel Common.

            “Yes, Commander,” the asari spun around. Simultaneously, she threw up a biotic shield, blocking the entrance the ghouls were pouring in from and lifted the armor onto its feet. As soon as it was upright the suit seemed to assume its relaxed position, head down, shoulders slumped, and back straight.

            Shepard went to the back. Before she could ask she saw it. A large wheel, like for a valve. In the center of it was a blackened core of some sort, she assumed was the power. Not wasting another moment, she grabbed the wheel and cranked it. The suit hissed and then jerked.

            Seams split and it opened.

            Shepard barely caught the man inside as he fell backward into her.

            He was a big guy, taller than her and much thicker. Probably Kaidan’s size, now that she was thinking about it. He looked like Kaidan. That made her heart leap and she pushed the thought as far away as she could. Now wasn’t the time.

            Danse coughed and tried to steady himself, but one of his arms wasn’t moving, and it made it hard for him to hold onto her and keep straight. Without another thought, Shepard dipped down and put him over her shoulder. She’d done it to Kaidan back on Vermire to get him out before they blew the lab, and as fun as it was to joke about in hindsight, it was the only reason he was alive. Now she was doing it again.

            Fireman carrying the soldier up the steps, she hit the door and found it locked. A swear left her and right when she was about to kick it in, Kasumi appeared and knelt in front of it.

            “Don’t ruin the integrity of it, Shep, we may need it at its best,” she said and the lock clicked free.

            The doors opened and Shepard ran inside, up some more steps, and into a dark lobby. It was a big space with the reception desk across from the entrance, and some tables left from back when this was still in use for its original purpose. Now it was a makeshift home base for soldiers looking to survive. By a wall with an unlit lantern, three sleeping bags were lined up, another medical kit sat beside them.

            Shepard went to the sleeping bags as the front doors slammed shut. Moans and hisses accompanied the beating of hands against the old wood. She ignored it, knowing Samara and Kasumi could secure the door.

            Instead, she focused on the man she was setting down on a dirty floor. The sleeping bags wouldn’t provide much cushion against the hardwood, but it was better than nothing, she hoped. He didn’t seem to mind, his head was tipped back against the wall and he looked up at the ceiling.

            The lighting was horrible, not much from the sun made it in the windows with the fog, and none of the lights worked, she was willing to wager. Instead, she went to the lantern and lit it with a match sitting beside it. “There we go,” she smiled and looked at the Paladin, hoping to distract him from the dire mood. “Now we can see each other.”

            “You left your helmet out there,” he stated, his deep voice was so different from Kaidan’s despite their identical first glance appearance. Dark hair, nearly styled the same, with kind eyes –brown she could now tell, the same shade even– and tanned skin without work from the sun.

            “It’ll be fine, I don’t think the ghouls will take it,” she grinned a little, hoping to fool him into thinking she was better with all this than she was.

            If he didn’t believe her, he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked down at his shoulder and bit his lower lip. It was a pout thing, but she didn’t let herself look at it too long. “My arm’s broken.”

            “We can fix that,” she said and pulled her backpack off to rummage through it. “Based on that beard, you’ve not been following the regs,” she started saying, pulling out a pouch of medigel.

            “I haven’t had a chance to shave,” he said, seeming to just now realize it himself. He used his good arm to rub at his jaw, running his fingers through the black hair there. It was thick by his chin and got thinner as it worked up to his cheeks and higher jawline. She smiled at that and thought about how Kaidan couldn’t grow one at all to save his life.

            “Well, I can help you out if you like,” she offered and then shimmied closer to him with a sterile rag and the medigel. “But first, we’re going to have to set the arm and apply this.”

            “What is it?” his nose wrinkled. She didn’t miss how he eyed every movement she made. Everything about her uniform looked different from what he would know. The fact they understood each other at all was a miracle.

            “It’s a healing agent. Remember what I said about we had some talking to do?” He nodded and his gaze flicked to the front doors. They were out of sight, but both soldiers knew the alien was over there. Only, one of them called her friend and the other didn’t know what she was yet.

            “Are you human?” he asked suddenly.

            “Of course, I am,” Shepard’s brows narrowed and she straightened up. “What else would I be?”

            “A synth,” Danse coughed and relaxed against the wall. “Trying to –gain intel on the Brotherhood.”

            “I don’t even know what the Brotherhood is,” she said and waved at his chest with her pinky. “Now, we can keep talking about this, but I want to get a look under there and see what’s with that cough. I also need you to take it off so I can get to your arm.”

            The Paladin didn’t make a charismatic joke about her wanting him to strip, which only made her think of her biotic ex-boyfriend even more. It would be easier to separate the two of them in her mind if they didn’t seem so alike. She helped him with her free hand, and they got his jumpsuit down to his waist. Bruises stained his skin from belly button to the throat. He also had dried blood under his nostril from a bloody nose. His arms were thick, muscles on bone like steel cables.

            Shepard was very proud of herself for mostly ignoring them and getting right to his arm. He watched her with thick black brows drawn together, and lips pressed into a tight line. Without looking at his face, she spread some medigel over the worse looking bruises, and then went to the broken bone.

            “Now, I’m no doctor,” she said with a grin and finally met his stare. “But that looks like it’s out of socket, not broken, which is a whole lot better for us.”

            He grunted and tried to move his shoulders. She stopped him immediately and put the medigel in his lap with the rag.

            “Hold still, I’m going to get it back in place. It’ll tickle,” she warned and he actually smiled. It was a cute thing that brightened his eyes and made his worn expression younger. Now he went from being in his late forties to his early thirties.

            “Can’t be worse than the day I’m having,” he grunted.

            Paladin Danse took it like a krogan.

            Little more than a growl escaped his lips when she got the arm back in place. He sucked air through his teeth but otherwise didn’t protest. She got the medigel and rag quickly and soothed it over the skin to get it working quickly.

            “It feels warm,” he whispered and she nodded.

            “Means it’s working.”

            “And you’re not a synth?” he looked up, face masked with indifference. She knew better though, she’d used that same expression when she wanted answers without giving her thoughts. It was a face she got really good at with Miranda.

            “Like a synthetic?” she asked and frowned. “I’m human, as far as I know,” she rolled her shoulders. “It’s… a little complicated.”

            “It’s not complicated,” he said, his voice even, but it left no room for debate. “Either you’re human or your not.”

            “What about humans that have been augmented with cybernetics?” she asked, brows perked.

            “That’s simple,” he said evenly. “You’re human.”

            “Then I’m human,” she said and tilted her head. “Why are you so worried about it? Is there a problem with synthetics around here?”

            “Synths made by the Institute have ravaged the Wasteland,” he explained and sighed. “They’re playing god and don’t understand the harm they’ve caused.”

            “They did this,” she threw her thumb over her shoulder.

            “No, that was long ago,” he shook his head and eyed her. “Where are you from? You aren’t with the Brotherhood but you seem military.”

            “I am, Alliance Navy,” she straightened up some and his brows drew together.

            “What Alliance?”

            “The Human one.”

            “There isn’t one, not that I’ve heard of,” he breathed and touched his chest as another coughing fit took him. She helped steady him and waited for him to relax before she started speaking again.

            “Yeah, I’m thinking that is going to be hard to explain.”

            “Try,” he ordered and her brows drew together.

            “I think I’m from an alternate timeline, my earth is nothing like this and is far, far more advanced for the year. We’ve all but mastered space travel and have become a Council Race with the turians, asari, and salarians, aliens I know you’ve never heard of. The war that trashed this planet didn’t happen where I’m from, and it seems like it’s royally fucked up whatever was going to happen here. Maybe you did discover the ruins on Mars, maybe you did find the Mass Relays to allow you access to the reaches of the galaxy, but from what I’ve seen you barely made it to the moon.” She shifted and then pulled her gun off her shoulder, watching his expression carefully. “Your technology is nice and all, but nothing compared to what we have.” The sniper rifle popped out, stretching to its full length from the forearm length rectangle it could fold into. Danse’s expression was drifting more into awe. “That blue woman with me is an asari with biotics, and so far I’ve not seen a thing that would hint that you know what that means either.” She held the gun out to him and when he took it she stood. “I also bet you’ve never seen a shield before.” She nodded to him and added, “Shoot me.”

            “Commander?”

            Shepard ignored Samara, offering only a fist raised, telling her to stay where she was. Kasumi was no doubt beside her watching. They didn’t speak English, so all they saw was the wounded soldier holding her sniper rifle, aimed at her. She only looked at him.

            “Some raiders found out the hard way that I’m not crazy, or someone from a comic book. I don’t want you to be the same way.” She stood straight and held fast. “When you’re ready, Paladin. Fire.”

            The man sat there for a long moment. His expression schooled, but she could read the gentle shift in his brown eyes. Fear, anger, denial, suspicion. It was the same expression Kaidan Alenko gave her on Horizon when she tried to convince him she was real, that _yes_ she did die, but Cerberus brought her back and she was still _her_. She wasn’t a copy, a clone, a synthetic version, and she hadn’t faked the whole thing for press. She died when the Normandy SR1 was attacked. She suffocated in space as her oxygen leaked.

            But she’d been brought back, just as she was, with a few upgrades.

            Kaidan didn’t come back to her. He couldn’t trust her again.

            And that was another difference between him and Danse. The Paladin’s lips set and he aimed for her center mass. He took a deep breath and fired.

            The bolt struck her shields right between her breastplates.


	6. Double Whammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel is full of surprises, teacher, survivor, and friend?

**Sole**

            The lunch Codsworth made was simple, sandwiches with prepared Instamash that was still warm. Sole led Angel over to the tables inside the storefront and pulled the Tupperware out to divide up the food.

            “I’m not sure what you eat,” she said sheepishly and sat out the containers, letting it look at them.

            To her surprise, it grabbed its wrist and twisted it, releasing one of the gauntlets. Her heart immediately picked up when it pulled off the armor and she was able to see what its naked hand looked like. It did indeed have three digits, one of them a thumb, all of them slightly bigger than hers if she were to mimic the positioning. Each digit was armed with a talon, like a bird or a dinosaur rather than a nail or claw. The plates were the same silvery color its plates were, with tanned flesh for the skin.

            It removed its other glove and popped one of the lids open to look at the food. Tilting its head, it pulled the bread off of a sandwich and picked up a slice of meat.

            Sole felt her shoulders slump just a little at that. _Of course,_ it was a meat eater.

            Angel glanced over at her and tapped its helmet with a tilted head. She realized it couldn’t eat with the helmet on and she nodded waving her hands. “Yeah, totally, go for it…” she said and looked around for a stool to sit on.

            As Angel removed its helmet and prepared to eat, she explored the station’s back office and found a cap stash with a terminal that still worked. It seemed there was some power still here, but the lights were disconnected from it. She’d have to look into that.

            Coming back out, she placed a stool behind Angel and put another one a few feet away from it so she didn’t have to eat _right_ next to it.

            Deciding to allow it all the meat, she picked apart the other sandwich and put it in its dish. Then she took the Instamash from it as well as the bread, cheese, and lettuce.

            “You’ll probably like the eggs and bacon, too,” she said and pulled out the breakfast container. After she took the toast, she pushed it over to Angel. It took it and lifted it to its nose. Then it splayed its mandibles and nodded once to her, humming. “You’re welcome,” she said and touched her mouth with her hand and pulled it away. She didn’t know a lot of sign language, but she knew the basics.

            Angel tilted its head at the movement and copied it. She smiled and nodded. Its eyes lit up a little and it looked away, touching its mouth and waving its hand downward just as she had. Her smile widened at that and she started eating her vegetarian food while listening to Angel hum and click thoughtfully while it ate.

            “You’re a talkative one, aren’t you?”

            When they were done it helped her pack the dishes back into the lunchbox. She knew it hadn’t eaten nearly enough food, but she didn’t have anything else on her.

            “We need to clean this place up for you,” she started saying and put her hands on her hips as she walked around the storefront. “Sweep this up… maybe convert the office into a bedroom….”

            Angel put its armor back on and then gestured to her. She lifted a brow at it and it pointed at her and then waved toward it. When she took a timid step forward, it started backing up and headed out the side door. She followed and they walked around to the back of the station. It was a wreck, a chem station had been erected between a pile of old tires and a Nuka Cola machine. Around back there was a cooking spit with an old ice cooler and a dumpster. She noticed the cooking pit was bloody and had bones around it. Suddenly, she remembered the mole rats and she looked back at Angel with wide eyes.

            It ate them.

            She didn’t feel as bad for not having enough food with her anymore.

            Angel led her to the pod wedged into the hillside just beyond Red Rocket. She felt her heart hammer faster and harder with each step they drew closer. When they reached it, Angel climbed onto the end sticking out of the ground and grabbed the latch, pulling it aside to open it.

            Angel looked down at her and she pointed to the pod and then it, then offered him some numbers on her hand. It held up all its fingers and then pointed to the ground behind Red Rocket, passed the cooking spit. Sole turned and saw two mounds of freshly turned dirt.

            Graves.

            Her heart heaved and she looked back up at Angel with a worried expression. It had lost two of its crew. It noticed her expression and touched its head and shrugged. She took that as it didn’t know them. That made her feel a little better, but she knew the feeling of being the only survivor of a tragedy. Only she and Shaun had made it out of Vault 111.

            Still, she rubbed her chest with her right fist: _sorry_. Angel touched its mouth and waved its hand downward: _thank you_.

            Sole climbed up onto the pod with the alien and waited in the mouth when it waved for her to do so. Then it dropped down into the dark space. Safety lights lined the ground, but the glare of the sun made it hard for her to really see anything inside of it. She thought she saw a couple of bloody spots on the walls and realized that the people buried probably died on impact. The wound on Angel’s face wasn’t fresh enough to have happened from the impact, so it was from before it landed.

            Angel handed her a bag and she took it, along with a folded rectangle she guessed was another one of its alien guns. She figured it wasn’t dangerous while folded up, but she didn’t want to drop it, so she pressed it close to her chest. Angel climbed back up out of the pod and closed it, sealing it with a grunt as it tightened the latch as hard as it could. Her brows perked a little and she figured it was to keep out scavvers (as Garvey and them called scavengers).

            Angel glanced at her and then pushed the end of the rectangle away from her face. Her heart spiked at the realization she’d been pointing the business end of the gun at herself, and then again at the care the alien showed her. Even if it was just courtesy.

            They went back to the front of the station and Angel turned to her. When she offered it the pack, it shook its head and gently pushed it back to her. Her brows jumped and she looked at it. As nice as it was, she didn’t know what half of the crap in it did. She shook her head and started handing it to the alien again.

            Angel took it and put it on one of the tables they’d eaten at. Then it took the rectangle from her and came to her side, it tilted the weapon in its hands and showed her where it put its hands. Then the weapon unfolded, jerking out to its full size.

            It was a sniper rifle if she’d ever seen one. When it took its front hand off, it tilted the weapon to show Sole a switch it flicked with its thumb, and the rifle contracted. She gulped when Angel handed it to her and waved for her to do something with it.

            She tried to copy its movements, but nothing happened. It clicked and growled a little bit, and took her hands, moving them just a little. When her right hand rested correctly in place she could feel the switch and she flicked it.

            The gun snapped out and she nearly dropped it. Angel grabbed the barrel, probably seeing her losing her grip, and helped her support the weight that now shifted out from its original compact position.

            When the alien let go she was able to hold it herself and she shifted it around in her grasp, giving the scope a peek. All she saw was the wall of the station, so she turned a little to look out the door. She could see straight down into Concord, as if she were standing a foot from the building in her sight. When she pulled away to look at it regularly she noted the distance and smiled widely at the alien.

            “That’s impressive,” she said, hoping it understood. Angel purred and chirped, standing a little straighter so that its shoulders looked broader. For a second, she was reminded of how Sturges stood similarly to show off his muscles. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. Sole turned the gun around, the barrel briefly pointing at the alien. Though her finger wasn’t anywhere near the trigger, Angel still grabbed the end and shifted it away from its head. “Sorry,” she said and rubbed her chest with her fist again.

            It nodded and then went to the bag it tried to give her. It pulled out one of the cylinders with a red line circling the top. It was a slick black metal looking thing. Shiny.

            Angel put the cylinder in her hand and turned the gun over in her grasp so it could point at a specific part of it. She nodded and the alien took her hand, guiding it to the point it had indicated. With the red line at the back, she was able to push it into the gun. It snapped and something fell out the bottom. Briefly distracted, Sole looked at the discarded item and saw it was another cylinder but the red line didn’t circle all the way around it.

            Angel tapped the gun to get her attention and she looked back at what it was doing. It used her hand to slap the side of the gun, bumping her palm against it. She heard, and felt, it click. Then Angel knelt beside her and helped her put the weapon back on her shoulder. Automatically, she tilted her head to look through the scope.

            Her finger was guided to the trigger. She took in a deep breath like Nate taught her to do before firing, and pulled the trigger.

            The tree she was aiming at dropped a limb with little more than a pop. The sound of the rifle was loud, but like the movies rather than the massive _bang_ from real firearms. Her surprise was obvious on her face when she pulled back to look at the weapon. Angel purred and she glanced over at it.

            “That’s really nice, not as… scary,” she tried to think of the right word. “For me at least.”

            Then she flipped the switch to get the weapon to fold up. Angel stood and went to the pack, picking up the cylinder from the ground. After it had been placed in the pack, the alien offered her the bag. She finally relented and then shifted the weapon in her hand, unsure of where to put it. It seemed that the weapons Angel carried just sort of stuck to its armor.

            It guided her hand, putting the rifle over her shoulder. It immediately stuck in place, off-center on her backpack. It was still within reach, and when she gave it a test, her hand immediately settled in the right place to flick the switch, ejecting it. Placing it back was just as easy.

            “Why can’t our weapons be this nice?” she asked the alien and smirked a little. “Our troops would have loved this.” Sole shifted the pack on her back and then picked up her lunchbox. “Okay, so… I’m going to go back to Sanctuary, and then I’ll be back, in the meantime just… stay put, yeah?” She waved around and started to back up.

            Angel started following her and she put her hands up, shaking her head. But it huffed and shook its head, touching its chest and then pointing past her up the road. Then it touched its chest and pointed to her. She felt a pang of guilt and rubbed her face. Well, the station wasn’t really in a state to be staying in, and according to Mama Murphy, she needed to go to Diamond City to get the next clue for finding her son. So… maybe traveling with Angel wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would make things easier.

            It obviously knew how to fight, and it didn’t seem like it was planning on turning on her or letting her die, so…

            “Okay, fine,” she said and nodded. Pointing at its chest, then at herself, she shook her own hand as if to make a deal. To her surprise, Angel stuck out a hand. Her brows rose and she took the armored thing with as little awkwardness as she could manage.

            Angel followed Sole back to her house. The assaultron excuse was perfect, and everyone knew about it by now. Mama Murphy was the only one who didn’t look convinced. She stared from across the street in the main house the settlers were using.

            Her hazy blue eyes narrowed as she looked at the alien, like she knew more than she was willing to let on. Sole tried to dismiss it to just being high on chems, but so far, the woman’s _sight_ had been pretty intuitive.

            Sole opened her door and stepped inside, ignoring the old woman’s stare. She waved for Angel to follow and it did. Once inside she closed the door, allowing Dogmeat to run off and do whatever he pleased until she called on him.

            Codsworth was busy in the kitchen. He spun two of his three eyes around to look at her, one of them focused on their guest.

            “Oh, heaven’s, m’um, what is that doing in the house?”

            “I didn’t want it waiting in the street,” she said and then got in front of Angel. It was looking around, probably marveling at how clean everything looked compared to outside. “Hey, Angel,” she caught its attention and pointed to the couch. It looked and nodded once, circling the furniture to sit in the middle of it. It glanced back at her and she turned back to Codsworth.

            “I’ve never seen a robot quite like that one, m’um. Does it speak?”

            “I, uh, yeah, but not English.”

            “Oh, well, maybe I can translate!” Codsworth’s tone implied a smile despite him being devoid of lips. “I do know over–”

            “I doubt you’ll understand it, Codsy. Just give me a few minutes. I’m going to take it to Diamond City with me and Dogmeat.” She started down the hall toward her bedroom. She ignored the closed door across from hers.

            Inside the room, she tossed her new pack onto the neat bed and started sorting out her gear. She would need a couple changes of clothes –especially undergarments– and some armor. Sole also wanted to carry some person artifacts, she had a locket with Nate and Shaun’s pictures in it, and the holotape that Codsworth gave her. It wouldn’t be smart to play it out there, but she wanted to have it on her in case she needed to hear her husband one last time.

            The creaking of a floorboard made Sole spin around and grab her pistol. Strange how reflexes change in dire situations.

            Angel stood in the doorway, head tilted slightly to the side. It was looking at her and then it tipped down to look at the gun she was pointing at it.

            “I’m sorry,” she said and put the gun back in the holster on her hip. It chirped and then took a step in. She was about to warn it off, but bit her tongue, watching as it went to the windows and looked out at the destroyed streets. Then it looked at her dresser, noting the flag beside a picture of Nate with his arm around her. He was in uniform, just off the plane from his last deployment.

            Angel growled and clicked, gesturing its three-fingered hand at the photo then to her.

            “Yeah, me and my husband,” she said. She tapped her chest and then lifted her left hand to show her wedding ring, hoping it understood what that meant.

            It nodded once and picked up the picture, looking at it more closely. Suddenly curious, Sole stepped closer and tapped its shoulder. It glanced at her and she pointed at its chest then pointed to Nate.

            “Male?” she asked and then pointed at herself. “Female?” Then she pointed back at it. It tilted its head and she flushed. Did it even know there was a difference between her and Nate? Did it know there were differences between humans?

            She shook her head, backing up and waving.

            Angel put the picture down and tilted its head, a soft hum rumbling in its chest, followed by clicks. It pointed to the picture and rolled its head almost like a dog did when it heard a noise it tried to recognize.

            Sole wet her lips and made a circle with her left hand and held up one finger with her right hand, then she pushed them together in the _very_ childish way of imitating sex. The creature let out a sudden noise that sounded a lot like a laugh and she dropped her hands.

            “Okay, smartass, what are you?” She nodded to it and pointed, shrugging her shoulders. She pointed at her chest and then made the circle.

            To her surprise, Angel lifted a hand a held up one finger. Male.

            “You’re male?” she asked as if he could understand. It chirped a reply and then tapped on Nate’s face with a gentle finger. Then it pointed to its chest. “Male it is,” she said and smiled a little. “Now I don’t have to call you ‘it’.”

            “Mrs. Felicity?”

            “What is it, Codsworth?” She turned back to the doorway to answer him.

            “M’um, I know I’m no Mr. Gutsy, but if you are seeking company to locate young Shaun, I would be honored to accompany you.” Sole stiffened and started shaking her head right away.

            The thought of Codsworth leaving Sanctuary or Red Rocket’s boundaries made her sick. He was one of the few things left from before the war, and if she lost him, she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do. “No, Codsy, I can’t… no.” She lifted her hands and shook them to keep him from speaking. “I need you here, safe, keeping home safe.”

            “Oh, yes.” He bobbed slightly. “Of course, m’um. Is… is there something specific you’d like me to do while I await your return?”

            “Can you fix up the Red Rocket for me? I have some ideas for it but it’d be great if it was done before I needed it.” In the time she and Angel were gone, the Mr. Handy could have the station fixed up just the way she wanted it.

            “Yes, yes, m’um, what is it that you’re thinking?”

            Sole glanced back into the room to see Angel packing her bag with the clothes she had sitting out. He was folding them in small, tight rolls to conserve space. She hoped desperately he had no idea that he was also folding her underwear and sports bras. “Uh, yeah, let me draw it up for you.” Sole went into the kitchen with the robot and started mapping out her plan for the station.

            When she returned to retrieve the alien, she found him standing at the foot of the bed with her locket in hand. It was open and held close to his face so he could see the tiny pictures. Her heart leaped and she came over to him, taking it from him without looking at his face.

            He chirped and rubbed his fist against his chest: _sorry_. But she pretended to miss it and pushed the locket down into the backpack. She then pulled it onto her back and placed her new rifle over it. She looked up at the alien and then jerked her head toward the door, indicating him to leave. He did, head bowed slightly. She couldn’t tell if it was to get through the doorways without fear of knocking his head or if he felt bad for snooping. Either way, she ignored him and followed him out, closing the door a little too hard.

            When they got back to the kitchen, she packed up the lunchbox with as much meat as the kitchen had and some nonperishables she could make over a campfire. Angel waited silently by the front door, still as a statue. With only a word to Codsworth, she left the house, Angel on her heels.

            And Sturges was there. Fantastic.

            “Hey, Felicity,” he waved with a cricked smile. His gaze passed her to land on Angel briefly. That smile wavered. “Oh, you brought it up from the station?”

            “I brought _him_ up from the station,” she corrected.

            “Yeah, male version of the assaultron right? What’d they call them?” he asked, looking Angel over curiously as he stepped up to her side. To his credit, he looked very robotic. He was stiff and focused all his attention on Sturges.

            “War Machines,” she shrugged and started down the street, waving for Angel to follow. He did, his boots hitting the pavement with less grace than she was accustomed to him having. Dogmeat trotted up shortly after.

            Sturges wasn’t done, though, and came running up to talk to her still. “Where ya off to?”

            “To find my baby,” she said and tried to smile. “Mama Murphy told me Diamond City was my best bet, I’m headed that way. I just… wish I knew where that was,” she huffed and pulled up her Pipboy.

            “Oh, I know where it is,” he said and gestured to her arm. She offered it over and waited as he ticked around in the controls, scrolling over to about where the old baseball diamond was.

            “That Fenway Park?” she asked and the mechanic rolled his shoulders.

            “Diamond City, the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth,” he said and smiled at her.

            Sole smirked and looked at the map marker again. “It is. Diamond City, like, baseball diamond, niiiiice.” She shook her head. "The biggest settlement around is the size of a baseball diamond."

            Sturges crossed his arms, puffing up his whole upper body. “You know how to get there?”

            “Unless the roads are totally different than before the war.” Felicity offered a smile and then said, “Thanks, I’ll see you when I get back.”

            The mechanic’s cheeks flushed some and he shifted where he stood. Angel took in a weird breath, almost like he was sniffing the air. “Ya know we’ll miss you ‘round here,” the man was saying. “I–I’ll miss you.”

            “Thanks,” she nodded and started down the street, without looking back at him she waved over her shoulder at him. Dogmeat trotted up alongside her, but Angel hung back a second.

            When he came to join her, he was laughing that strange flanging chuckle of his. Sole glanced over at him with a brow raised and he just shook his head and chirped.

            “Weirdo.”


	7. Hind Sight's 20/20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard finds part of her crew!

**Shepard**

            Getting shot this close wasn’t fun. The sniper rifle was a strong weapon, and it knocked her right off her feet and back into the wall beside Samara. But she was alive and otherwise unharmed.

            The asari knelt beside her and shook her head. “What are you doing?”

            “I needed him to understand,” she said simply and Samara touched her forehead softly.

            “We need to bond, Commander. I can learn the language you’re speaking just as you learned the Prothean language before you died.”

            “Thanks for reminding me,” she said and looked up at the asari with a mirthless grin.

            “It will only take a moment, and then I can share it with Kasumi.” Her hand rested on Shepard’s shoulder as the Commander remained propped up against the wall on the floor. She tried to relax. Embracing Eternity wasn’t always a pleasant experience, but Shiala was offering a very different kind of connection. And that was import, this was going to be export.

            It was over in a flash of black. It left her with a fuzzy feeling rather than the headache Shiala gave her with the Prothean stuff.

            Danse was standing a little ways in front of her when she opened her eyes. She smiled at him and nodded to Samara. “It’s an asari thing.”

            “What did she do to you?”

            “I learned your language,” Samara said, looking up at the Paladin. She stood, putting her right at his height in her heels. The soldier took a step back and eyed her up and down, obviously conflicted.

            “What’s your stance on aliens, Paladin?” Shepard asked, standing up slowly as the asari went to Kasumi to share English with her.

            “I’m,” Danse started, looking at the exchange with narrowed brows. “Not sure.”

            “You were worried I was synthetic,” she started, catching his attention.

            “Yes, because of what the Institute has done. Synths were made, not born, that’s…” he handed her back her sniper rifle. She took it and flipped its switch as she placed it on her back.

            “Are they artificial intelligence or virtual intelligence?”

            His brows skewed again as he tried to unpack the question. “There are different models. The latest can think on their own and simulate decisions, but the Institute has control over them,” he said carefully.

            “Then they’re chained artificial intelligence.” She nodded once. “We had one on our ship, her name was EDI. She didn’t have a physical body, but she was bound to the ship and able to control it with some rules.”

            Danse’s face twisted in what may have been disgust. “Like killing you all?”

            “Exactly,” Shepard nodded once. “But there is one in my crew that is a synthetic AI, we call it Legion.” She watched his face carefully. “I can promise it isn’t like your synths, and if we come across it, I need to know you won’t attack it.”

            Danse opened his mouth and then stopped. After a careful thought, he said, “I will defend me and mine.”

            “That’s fine,” Shepard nodded her understanding.

            Kasumi came forward then and gestured to the building around them. “Why the Police Station? There have to be army bases…?”

            “The more central location, as well as the nature of the building, made it a tactical advantage until the ghouls from the square were woken up. Something, I assume your ship, struck down to the southwest a few nights ago. More dotted the sky, landing all over.”

            “Southwest? We came from the southeast,” Shepard’s heart leaped and she glanced back at the others. “It had to be another pod.

            “How many of you are there?” Danse asked.

            “We had a crew of 26 total, I helped as many as I could get to their pods–”

            “Miranda biotically threw her into our pod,” Kasumi added with a small smile. “Said something like, ‘Don’t make me rebuild you… _again_ ’?”

            “Yeah,” Shepard tried not to growl at the memory of being completely helpless as the pod locked and fired into space while crew still filled her ship.

            “Rebuild?” Danse looked her over and she nodded.

            “Cybernetic advancements.” The Paladin nodded. “But now we know one of our pods is nearby, would you be able to help us locate it?”

            “Not from inside here,” he said and gestured to himself. “My flight suit won’t provide enough protection to keep me alive with that many ferals.”

            “Samara can protect you,” she looked back at the biotic. The asari nodded and a blue light covered her body.

            “Bulletproof?” he asked and Shepard shook her head.

            “No, biotics will block everything, including slow-moving objects like people.”

            “Slow moving?” the Paladin perked a brow at her.

            “Slower than a bullet,” she pointed out and he nodded once.

            “All right.” He straightened up so that he stood in front of her at his full height. “I have one request and I will offer my assistance.”

            Interested by the offer, Shepard waved a hand. “That depends on the request.”

            “I have to report back to my superiors. They must know I am the only one left and that my mission was a failure.”

            “It’s not a failure as long as you’re alive to complete it,” she pointed out.

            “I was to lead my men here to search for valuable technology and documents,” he waved at her. “Until now, I thought the Institute was the most advanced organization in the Commonwealth, but you’ve shown me otherwise. Your technology is beyond anything that the Institute could come up with, and my superiors need to at least _know_ about that.”

            “Your people will try to detain us?”

            “That depends on my orders and your cooperation with them,” he said, brown eyes locked on her.

            “As long as we’re allowed to find our people and our way home, I don’t think our people will have trouble getting along together.”

            “If your people don't interfere with the Brotherhood's mission and values, you should be fine.”

            The air between them was tense, swimming with threats and promises as well as understanding and desperation. Danse was dead without them. They would have a hell of a time finding their other pod without him. Not to mention she’d already briefed him on her and her team, so aliens shouldn’t be so shocking anymore.

            “What do you need to contact your people?”

 

 

            Danse crouched down and Shepard followed. They were approaching a small settlement built off of a train station tower. The tower was on fire, all the crops were destroyed, and the rusted chain link fence around it was missing segments like something had torn through them.

            Two dead bodies were lying in the tiny crop field. From here they both looked like women. She checked through her scope and confirmed it.

            “What do you think happened here?” Kasumi asked, hand on her omnitool, ready to turn invisible.

            Samara gestured to the hole in the base of the tower. “That is krogan size, is it not?”

            “Krogan?” Danse’s brows pulled together and Shepard sighed.

            “Another alien, bigger than us, much… much bigger. Do you know what a rhino is?” she raised an eyebrow. When he rolled his shoulders in a ‘sort of’ kind of way, she nodded once and refocused on the settlement, “It’s like one of those on two legs.”

            Danse’s expression skewed, but he didn’t say anymore.

            “Kasumi, you and I will go invis, check it out. Don’t want Grunt thinking we’re a threat from afar and charging. We also don’t know who else is here with him. Samara, protect Danse.” The master thief nodded and ticked her controls so she faded away before their eyes. Shepard followed suit, noting the expression on Danse’s face wasn’t… _quite_ as surprised as she expected. Maybe they’d found their own way to turn invisible?

            Shepard held her pistol instead of her rifle. It didn’t make sense to have a long range weapon right up in close quarter combat, and if Grunt attacked, she would be able to talk to him. The reason the women in the settlement died was most likely lack of communication and they probably shot the poor thing.

            Thinking of Grunt as ‘a poor thing’ reminded her of when he was in the tank. Since he’d been taken out she couldn’t remember using that phrase to describe him at all.

            It wasn’t hard to find the crash site. In the dimming light of evening, it was the center of fires where trees had caught and had yet to be put out. It was closed, and when she tried to open it, it was shut tight; probably by Grunt, as he was the strongest physically on the Normandy.

            Shepard turned around and heavy tracks in the tilled dirt. There were three sets, two human-like, and one very obviously krogan. She followed it and stopped a few yards away from the mouth of a cave. It was illuminated by glowing mushrooms and something inside that may have been a fire or a tablet. She ticked her omnitool and materialized as she started toward the cave. Kasumi joined behind her a second later.

            “Grunt? You in there?” she called softly.

            “Shepard?” a woman’s voice all but shrieked.

            “Kelly?” the Commander gasped and ran inside. She was immediately stopped by the krogan in question.

            Grunt threw his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, threatening to break her spine. “Shepard!” he howled.

            “Oh, there y’are, big guy,” she heaved, trying to breathe with the alien’s grip around her torso. “Mind not breaking me?”

            “Oops,” the krogan sat her down on her feet. He was wearing his helmet, same as her and her team (well, Danse wasn’t, but he was used to the radiation).

            Kelly came running up also, dressed in an emergency suit from the pod. She hugged Shepard and started crying. Before the Commander could ask what happened, she pointed behind her. “Thane, he’s… he’s…”

            Shepard’s heart stopped and she gently pushed Kelly away to run over to her friend.

            The drell was lying on his back, hands crossed over his chest, and eyes closed. His face was peaceful and exposed. Shepard held her omnitool up to him and found no vitals. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. “What happened to him?”

            “He was sick,” Grunt sighed. “When we got out of the pod the didn’t have our helmets on, we thought the air was safe.”

            Kelly covered her faceplate and then shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Shepard, we should have taken better care of him.”

            Shepard stood up and pulled Kelly into a close hug. “Kelly, he was more to you than me. Don’t apologize to me,” she wished the other woman didn’t have a helmet on so she could stroke her hair. Kelly was all about that kind of comfort and seemed she could really use it now. “ _I’m_ sorry, Kelly. We shouldn’t even be here.”

            Her gaze drifted back down to the assassin. He’d been sick, and he’d been honest with her since they met. He was a beautiful thing, made of dark green scales and colorful skin, like a cross between a reptile from the desert and a tropical flower. She could only imagine how his son was going to feel having missed his passing.

            Finally, Shepard turned to Grunt. “It was just you three in this pod?”

            “Yes, Commander,” he nodded. His helmet turned toward Thane’s body. “Sick that we survive a suicide mission and then come here, huh?”

            “Sick indeed,” she agreed and then crossed her arms. “What happened with those people outside? The bodies?”

            Grunt immediately lifted his hands defensively. “Those humans didn’t speak a lick of Citadel Common, and then Kelly here comes in yammering in… whatever that was–”

            “English,” she supplied, but the krogan continued.

            “And they start talking about me, and the one points her gun, and so I point mine back, and she shot me. What was I supposed to do?” Grunt waved his arms dramatically.

            Shepard wasn’t impressed. She stared at him, eyes narrowed and foot tapping. “She shot you once?”

            “Yeah, didn’t have time to get off another,” he chuckled darkly.

            “And your shields blocked it?”

            “Yeah, but I wasn’t going to give her–”

            “So you attacked a scared civilian with whom you couldn’t communicate with because they shot you? Once?”

            “I…” Grunt looked over at Kelly who also had her arms crossed.

            “I tried to get him to stop,” the other woman said.  

            Shepard sighed deeply through her nose and rubbed her helmet as if it could soothe her headache. It didn’t. “Grunt, we’re not in friendly territory, and you took out two people who could have helped us.”

            Kelly cut in, “Commander, I don’t think we would have gotten much aid from them. The moment they saw Grunt and Thane they started screaming and talking about… synths?”

            Shepard stiffened at the mention and recalled what Danse had said about them. “I have a man with me that may be able to help explain what that was about.”

            They brought Thane’s body with them as they returned to the settlement. Samara and Danse were adjusting the dead women’s bodies. Grunt put Thane down gently beside one of them.

            Danse looked at the alien, his face twisting between awe and distrust. Then he looked at Grunt. The krogan was helmeted, though, so he could have passed for an… oddly dressed human, maybe. His appearance wasn’t as shocking as Thane’s.

            “He was called Thane Krios,” Shepard said and Danse nodded. “He’s a drell, a reptile like people. He was very sick when we met and that made his encounter with the radiation… fatal.”

            “I am sorry for your loss,” the Paladin said. Kelly sucked in a shaky breath and touched her helmet again. This drew Danse’s gaze. “He was close to you?”

            Kelly nodded but didn’t look up. Shepard made a general gesture. “Where we come from, cross-species relationships are very common.”

            The Paladin did a very good job of hiding his disgust. “I see.”

            Samara stepped around them to Kelly and supplied her with a radiation pill. “Come, child, this will ease your ache.” Then she glanced over at the krogan. “And I have something to teach you.”

            Shepard and Danse dug holes while Samara helped Kelly and Grunt work through the radiation sickness and take the pills. She also shared English with Grunt. Kasumi wandered the settlement, getting together whatever supplies they could use, mostly food and meds.

            “You’ll want to send that mission update,” Shepard said. She had taken her helmet off and tied her hair up in a short ponytail.

            “I will.”

            “What do you think they’ll do?”

            There was a pause from the Paladin, he stopped digging, holding his shovel in the dirt beside him. “Order me to come home,” his tone implied an ‘I hope’ to the end of it.

            “Where is home?”

            “The Capital Wasteland,” he answered easily. It was strange for her to think that ‘normal’ was adding ‘Wasteland’ to the end of things. “Washington D.C.”

            “D.C. got hit too?” she stopped digging, looking over at him with sad eyes.

            “The war destroyed the entire United States, every major city was hit.”

            Shepard knew it was bad, but imagining the entirety of America being hit? That was a lot. She thought this may have been a single city issue, maybe a coast. She should have known better.

            “The bombs dropped in 2077,” Danse started digging again, finishing up the third hole. “Two hundred and ten years later, and we’re still rebuilding.”

            “Wait a second,” Shepard stopped him with a raised hand. “Two hundred and ten?”

            “Yes, it’s 2287.”

            Shepard stiffened and looked back at her team. “We left 2185.”

            Danse shook his head, “Not possible.”

            “Unless everything’s fucked up.”

            They stared at each other for a long moment and then Danse asked, “How _did_ you get here?”

            Shepard thought about the events leading up to then and shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

 

 

            _The Collector’s Base was going to blow. They needed to get to the Relay before that happened._

_“Joker, get me a status report.”_

_“We took some heavy hits back there, Commander, but we’re in the clear. For the moment.”_

_“Good, get us_ out _of here!”_

_“On it.”_

_For a moment, everything seemed fine. Shepard was able to walk through the crew, checking on them in the cargo hold. Everyone made it out alive. The suicide mission had been a success. She knelt beside Dr. Chakwas and they wrapped their arms around each other. The moment they separated the Normandy shuttered and Shepard was thrown into a wall._

_“What the hell was that?”_

_EDI popped up at one of her stations beside the Commander. “Shepard, we’ve entered a Mass Relay.”_

_“That was fast.”_

_“Indeed.”_

_All alarms on the Normandy blared. The ship shuttered again and Shepard was thrown right back into the wall. This time, hands helped her up. She looked up at Garrus and offered a smile. “Thanks.”_

_“No problem, Shepard. See you’re still working on your sea legs.” He splayed his mandibles and tipped his head to the side, looking down at her with bright blue eyes._

_“Shouldn’t need sea legs in space,” she pointed out and the turian trilled happily, his laughter mixing with the sound of his kind._

_“Very true.”_

_“If you two are done,” Miranda barked from a doorway she was currently holding onto for support. “The ship is going down.”_

_“Down?” Shepard’s brows drew together._

_“Yes, that’s what those alarms are for. You should remember,” the woman spat. It seemed whatever friendship they’d developed was on hiatus for the moment and they were back to how they were when they met._

_“We went through a Relay, we’re going home.”_

_EDI blinked into view, “Not exactly.”_

_The ship jerked and Shepard staggered, holding up well that time. “Get everyone to the escape pods.” Immediately, Miranda and Garrus split up, going for the other levels to get crew. Shepard went down the hall, trying to get to the stairs to get up to the bridge. She needed to help Joker get into a pod…_

_Miranda appeared in front of her. “Where are you going?”_

_“To get Joker, move,” the Commander ordered but Miranda shook her head._

_“I’m not rebuilding you_ again,  _Shepard.” Her skin lit up blue and the Commander’s eyes shot wide._

_“What’re you–?” Her feet leaving the ground cut her off. Suddenly she was weightless and being carried to a pod. Kasumi and Samara already occupied it. “Put me down, Miranda!”_

_“My pleasure.”_

_Shepard was thrown into the pod. The impact stunned her. She tried to crawl back to the door, but it was closed, and the feeling of freefalling took over. She tried to crawl over to a seat, but it was too late. They had entered an atmosphere._


	8. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole, Angel, and Dogmeat make it to Diamond City!

**Sole**

            “What do you mean ‘you can’t open the gate’? Stop playing around, Danny! I’m standing out in the open here, for crying out loud!”

            Sole, Angel, and Dogmeat stopped a few feet away, watching as the woman in the red trench coat tried to talk her way into the city.

            A scratchy voice came from the box she was talking to, a man about her age, “I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job.” He had an east coast accent, but the woman, Ms. Piper, had a northern one.

            “‘Just doing your job’?” she mocked him. “Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it? ‘Oh look, it’s the scary reporter!’” She leaned in close and wiggled her fingers beside her head when she shouted, “Boo!”

            “I’m sorry, but Mayor McDonough’s really steamed, Piper. Sayin’ that article you wrote was all lies.” Oh, that explained it: she was the press. Now her newsy hat made sense. “The whole city’s in a dizzy.”

            She made a loud, disgusted and irritated sound. “You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan.” Oh boy, he was in trouble. “I live here. You can’t just lock me out!” she seethed and looked like she was seriously considering kicking the speaker box.

            No reply came from the wise Danny Sullivan.

            Piper turned around, then kicking some trash. She seemed to only notice Sole and her party when this piece of trash bounced harmlessly off Angel’s boot. A devious grin crossed her lips and she shimmied over, her hazel eyes flicking up to Angel cautiously, but not at all deterred. “You. You and your bot want into Diamond City, right?” she lifted a brow and stuck her thumb over her shoulder. She spoke in a hushed whisper, probably trying to keep Danny from hearing.

            “And you are?” Sole asked, deciding to get some context before offering help.

            “Shh, play along,” Ms. Piper said, hands waving to double shush her. No context then, just diving right in. “What was that?” Piper asked suddenly, a little louder so the speaker could hear. But before Sole could say anything, she continued, “You said you’re a trader up from Quincy?”

            Sole opened her mouth but Piper shook her head and waved her hands, pointing her face back toward the speaker box.

            “You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month? Huh.” Then she perked up with a wide smile. “You hear that, Danny? You gonna open the gate and let us in? Or are you going to be the one talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all this supply?” She was nodding triumphantly before the poor boy could reply.

            “Jeez, all right. No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute.”

            There was definitely something between these two, but Sole didn’t feel like delving into that right now. All she wanted was to get in and find the next clue to get her baby.

            “Better head inside quick before ole’ Danny catches on to the bluff,” Piper wiggled a brow at Sole. Her gaze flicked to Angel. “And… I suggest leaving your bot out here. Got some real skittish people in there, hate to see it get some new holes.” Good to know he looked like a robot to most people. It must have been nerves that scared Garvey and Sturges.

            “Angel can take it,” Sole said and then gestured toward the massive green gate that lifted out of their way. “After you.”

            “Angel, huh? Nice,” she commented as she backed toward the entrance.

            It was a rusty, worn down, dirty version of the Fenway Park entrance that Sole had seen what felt like months ago. Nate and she had gone to a game while she was pregnant with Shaun and got a baseball signed for his room. She hadn’t been in the nursery since leaving the Vault so she wasn’t sure if it was still there.

            A loud voice broke her train of thought, erupting from the shadows. “Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut! You _devious_ , rabble-rousing _slanderer_!”

            “Oh, he sounds pissed,” Sole whispered to Angel as they skirted the heavy man and left the woman to deal with her problem. The man was dressed in a suit, nothing too fancy, but it definitely wasn’t armor. Seeing he was the thickest individual that Sole had seen since before the war, she guessed his life was pretty cushy.

            “The level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I’ll have that printer scrapped for parts,” he continued, wagging a finger at the dark-haired woman in red.

            “Ooh, that a statement, Mayor. McDonough? ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?’” Piper fired back with raised arms as if highlighting the line.

            Sole stopped where she was and looked back. Angel had paused a few feet behind her also and was staring. She didn’t like reporters; they were usually bad news and never showed both sides of a story. They told the tales that sold, true or skewed. But shutting down free speech wasn’t something Sole could stand for. The government couldn’t strip its citizens of their rights, just for writing something he didn’t like.

            But she should have kept walking, because now Piper looked right at her. She pointed her out, getting McDonough to turn around and notice her and Angel for the first time. She didn’t miss how the man’s gaze narrowed at the alien. It was a calculating stare, not one what gave much away, but took in everything about a moment.

            “Why don’t we ask the newcomer? You support the news? ‘Cause the mayor’s threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster.” Piper gave the man a pointed look.

            “What newspaper?” Sole found herself asking, hoping it would discredit her opinion.

            “Mine.” Shocker. “Publick Occurrences, we’re the hard look at the truth. So are you with us or not?” Now that hard glare was at Sole. She didn’t think she cared for this woman. Sure, her stance might be fine, but she was very abrasive and not at all the personality that Sole preferred to be around.

            Behind her, Angel chirped and rumbled. Dogmeat whimpered and sat at her feet. “I’ve always believed in freedom of the press–” she started, planning a ‘but’ right after.

            The mayor cut in though. “Oh, I didn’t mean to bring you into this argument, miss. No, no, no,” he straightened his tie and cleared his throat, pulling out his charismatic smile. “You look like Diamond City material,” he added, as if it were a compliment.

            What a joke.

            “Welcome to the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth. Safe. Happy. A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down,” McDonough spread his arms. It was a rehearsed line if she’d ever heard one. But, he wouldn’t have become mayor if he wasn’t charismatic, right? “Don’t let this muckraker here tell you otherwise, all right?”

            “I’ve had better welcomes,” Sole said, brows drawn together.

            “She’s got you there, McDonough. Guess not everyone gets won over by that shark smile of yours,” Piper smirked, nodding approvingly to Sole.

            McDonough turned on her, clearing his throat louder than necessary. “Keep it up, Piper. Until further notice, you and that little sister of yours are on notice.”

            “Yeah, keep talking, McDonough, that’s all you’re good for,” Piper tipped her head to the side to look at the man with those piercing hazel eyes.

            The mayor, to his credit, dismissed her with a wave and turned back to Sole. “I do apologize for this greeting. Normally it isn’t so… loud.” They both glanced at Piper who was standing nearby, arms crossed. “Is there anything I can help you with while I’m here, to help wash the stain this may have given our fine city?”

            “I’m looking for someone,” she started saying, flicking her brown eyes over to Piper to gauge a reaction. “My baby, he’s only three months old.”

            “A baby?” Piper’s face dropped and then twisted in anger. “What’s Diamond City Security going to do to help a mother find her lost baby?”

            McDonough stiffened. “While I’m afraid that our security team can’t follow every case that comes through, I’m confident you can find help here.” A well-crafted and honest response. Sole nodded her understanding.

            “Do many people go missing here?” she asked.

            The mayor cleared his throat, “Not in Diamond City. But folks from other settlements do come looking for help here.”

            “Not that it does them any good,” Piper scoffed.

            The mayor ignored her. “Diamond City has every conceivable service known to man,” he continued, and boy did Sole want to cut in and make a comment about some pretty obscure services. “One of our great citizens can surely find the time to help you,” he finished as a non-committal response to the ask for help.

            Sole smiled kindly and folded her fingers into prayer hands. “You must know everyone in the city –every great mayor does. Time spent looking for someone to help is time away from the city’s many services.” She shifted and put on her best hopeful stare. “Can you help me?”

            The man shifted, wetting his lips as he stroked the rather average mustache graying on his upper lip. “Well, there is one private citizen. Nick Valentine. A… detective of sorts, who specializes in tracking people down. Usually for debts or whatnot,” he added to emphasize the kind of detective Valentine was. “Now, I have to get going. I’m sorry Diamond City security doesn’t have the time to help, but I’m sure Mister Valentine charges a reasonable fee.” The mayor glanced sideways at Piper and then turned on his heels, leaving. He paused when he came face to chest with Angel. “And, miss, make sure your… robot… stays docile.” He glanced over his shoulder to look at Sole with a much different tone in his eye. “I would hate for something to happen to it.”

            Sole stiffened at that and opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. McDonough didn’t wait, he stepped around Angel and went into the city. Sole swallowed hard and felt a pit form in her stomach.

            “I’m impressed, not everyone can claw information out of McDonough’s tight-fisted hands,” Piper startled Sole by speaking right over her shoulder. “Piper Wright, by the way,” she said and stuck out a hand. “Head reporter for Publick Occurrences.”

            “Felicity Sole,” she replied, taking the offered hand mostly out of habit. “This is Dogmeat, and that’s Angel as I mentioned before.”

            “It’s impressive, did you build it?” Piper asked, waving her fingers at the alien pretending to be a robot.

            “Oh, no, I’m not that good with mechanics,” she shook her head. “He’s a prewar prototype of a male based assaultron.” Wow, that excuse got more convincing every time she said it.

            “Damn, never heard of one of those,” the reporter tilted her head to look the man over. “A lot more decorative than the assaultrons I’ve seen.”

            “Again, prototype, they probably had plans to change things, but,” she put a hand on Angel’s shoulder and stepped between him and Piper’s prying gaze. “This one’s mine now.”

            “Where’d you find it?” The questions didn’t end.

            “Honestly? I happened across him.” That almost seemed to satisfy her curiosity. Almost.

            “Hmm, why don’t you stop by my office after you see Valentine? I think I just found my next story.” Piper started backing toward the city entrance.

            “I would really prefer not to,” Sole said. Piper smiled wider and shrugged her shoulders.

            “Up to you, Blue.”

            Sole’s brows jerked together. “What did you call me?”

            “Blue,” she said, still walking away. “Because you’re a Vault Dweller.”

            Sole stiffened. “How did you…?” Piper stopped walking, she’d made it halfway up the steps. Sole made her way over and stopped at the bottom.

            “Can spot you all a mile out. You got that fish out of water look to you, and those Pipboys are dead giveaways. You might not be wearing the jumpsuit now, but if you know what to look for, it’s pretty obvious,” the reporter shrugged her shoulders. “Still don’t want to give me that interview?”

            Sole swallowed hard and tried not to let her mix of emotions show on her face. Piper took the silence as an answer and turned around, leaving Sole alone in the gate of Diamond City.

            It took her a moment to collect her thoughts and feelings, and she noticed Angel was standing close to her, head tilted slightly. He was probably itching to take his helmet off, but she couldn’t afford for him to while they were out in the open. The sun as going down, and she was exhausted from the walk. All she wanted to do was sleep. If this city was all that the mayor wanted her to believe it was, then it would have a hotel where she could get a room and bed to sleep in.

            When she came over the rise to see it, she had to stop in her tracks. Sanctuary was larger in acreage, but this place had been worked on for years to build it up to the point it was at now. Electricity, running water, buildings as high as the stadium walls around them. Everything was based in the field, the stands had what looked like homes built up into them.

            Angel purred, drawing Sole back from her fascination. The place was a dump when you got over the marvel of what had been built. Trash lined the streets and the walls of the structures could really use a power washing. Her awe quickly faded and she cleared her throat, gesturing for Angel to follow.

            “We need to find somewhere to sleep and eat, I’m sure you’re hungry,” she said, looking back at him. She pursed her fingers in front of her mouth: _eat_. She couldn’t remember what hungry was, but the movement seemed pretty simple for a synonym.

            The alien nodded and matched the movement, his three fingers puckered together, tapping his helmet: _eat_.

            “All righty,” she nodded and worked her way down into the main square.

            Publick Occurrences had a shop directly to the left from the main entrance, and Sole pointedly ignored Piper as she spoke with a little girl, who was most likely her sister. The center of the city was a ring around a massive noodle stand run by a protectron in a chef’s hat. Seeing it was only open seating and noodles didn’t appeal to her alien companion, Sole skipped the stand and went for one of the stands with a human operator. She would have stopped to ask one of the guards, but they were all masked with heavy umpire gear and it wigged her out to look at them.

            The shops looked like most of them were closing down for the day, so she skipped as quickly –but still casually– as she could to the man dressed in a baseball uniform. It was strange to see him dressed just like a baseball player while running a stand. Until she got closer and saw what he was selling.

            “Swatters!” he said loudly when he caught her staring at the various bats. Some were normal, others hand barbed wire, nails or razor blades attached at one point or another. They were all far more deadly than she had ever seen a bat.

            “Swatters?” she raised her brow. “Baseball bats, you mean.” The man grabbed his chest and gasped like she’d shot him in the heart. She smirked and shrugged her shoulders, “I’m not from around here.”

            “A Swatter, my friend, is a Diamond City tradition,” he started explaining in a thick Boston accent, as he picked up a mahogany one. “See, it used to be that this whole place was a stadium. And two teams would meet and play a game called baseball,” he continued and gestured around. It was a speech he’d given once or thrice and knew well. Based on the sunburn on his face, he spent a lot of time out from under the overhang of his stand. “One team,” he was saying, “Would beat the other team to death with what you call baseball bats, but the best bats were called Swatters. True fact,” he added.

            Sole snorted. “Oh really? What kind of teams were there?”

            The man didn’t miss a beat. “There was the Diamond City Demolishers. Big brutes of guys. Played in full power armor with special pneumatic arms parts for swinging,” he smirked right at her, dead serious. “Then you had the Lexington Ladies. An all-female team, with coach Bloody Mary Sue at the helm. Highest kill count in the league. I could spend all day talking about the Concord Crushers or the Quincy Killmeisters, but you get the idea. It was a hell of a sport.” He stared off into the distance for a moment and then seemed to notice the time. “Hey, look, if you’re not buying something, get on out, I gotta clean up.”

            Sole shook her head, “Yeah, fine, where’s the hotel?”

            “Hotel?” he snorted out his nose. “Go to the Dugout Inn,” he pointed to indicate its direction. “Down that way, can’t miss it.”

            “Thanks,” she waved over her shoulder at him and led her boys to the Inn. It wasn’t quite as easy to find as she’d hoped, but Angel’s complaints, if he had any, were kept to himself.

            The Dugout Inn was, no surprise, in one of the dugouts. It had places to sit outside, and some people were utilizing the space, eating and talking. She didn’t waste any time going in and finding the man to talk to about a room. The place was run by brothers that sounded like they were from Russia. How they got here, she had no idea, but the one in charge of the rooms was nice. He gave her a smile before looking like he shit himself when he laid eyes on Angel.

            “Your, uh, room comes with breakfast,” he added and gestured to the lobby behind her and her company. “Just get it before ten o’clock, yes? And… damages,” he looked over Angel and cleared his throat. “You’ll be expected to pay for replacements and repairs.”

            “I understand, thank you…?” she lifted a brow.

            “Yefim Bobrov,” he said, his accent made it sound like he was speaking with a mouth full of syrup. “That’s my brother, Vadim.”

            At the mention of his name, Vadim crowed, “What is it you’re doing, brother? Let the pretty lady get some rest! She looks about to drop.”

            Yefim flushed and cleared his throat. “I am sorry,” he winced and waved behind him. “Your room is 2.”

            “Thanks, Yefim,” she said kindly and led her team into the room.

            When the door closed she heard Angel sigh. Sole glanced at him when he went to the dresser and put his hands on it, using it for support. The way he was shifting his weight, it looked like his feet hurt.

            It suddenly occurred to her she only got one room and getting another for her assaultron would be beyond weird. At least… she thought it would be. Did people often sleep in the same room as their robots? It didn’t seem weird for her to have him following her. Other than those back at Sanctuary, she hadn’t gotten many weird looks.

            “Angel,” she said softly and he turned to look at her. She waved to the bed and he tilted his head. Smiling a little, she pointed at him, then the bed, and then mimed sleeping with the snore, just like yesterday.

            Angel looked at the bed and then at her. He pointed to her, then the bed and cocked his head with folded fingers under his cheek: _you bed sleep?_

            Sole touched her chest and then pointed to the couch currently occupied by the dog: _me couch_. It was a loveseat with only enough room for two bottoms, so she doubted the six foot three alien could get comfortable on it. He would probably hang off the bed anyway, at least he would be sort of comfortable.

            But Angel shook his head and tapped his chest plate and pointed to the couch: _me couch_. Surprised, she laughed at him, shaking her head.

            Sole pointed to him and then put her hands together, drawing them apart vertically: _you tall_. Then she pointed to the couch and drew her hands together horizontally: _couch short_.

            Angel huffed and pointed at her, mimicking exactly what she just did back at her.

            They were fighting. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the absurdity of fighting with hand signals to an alien she couldn’t communicate with otherwise. Angel tilted his head at her and drew his finger in an upside-down arch in front of his face: _smile?_

            “I’m sorry,” she said and rubbed her chest with a fist then shook her head. She didn’t have the mind to try to explain what she thought was funny. Finally, she pointed at him and the bed, her expression stern. The alien sighed and looked at the bed.

            Angel stripped down out of his armor, and Sole tried not to stare. She wasn’t sure what she expected out of him, but it was a new shock every time she saw what was under the blue plate. He was tall, lean, a predator. She could easily relate him to the velociraptors from Jurassic Park in build. Now that he was completely free of his armor, which he stacked neatly on the dresser, she could see he had on an under armor suit, clinging to his skin tight, but acted as a protective layer between him and the metal. It allowed her to see everything but the colors of his skin and plates.

            His calves had horns sticking out the side, just like his armor, telling her it wasn’t just decoration on the suit. It didn’t look very sharp, though, so she wondered what purpose it had on the alien. It did go well with the rest of him. He had the spines on the top of his head, swooping back, and the mandibles on either side of his face. His back looked like it had a shell or carapace of some kind, thick and hard.

            “All you’re missing is a tail,” she commented and Angel turned to face her, startling her some. He raised an eyebrow plate and she realized he was curious what she said. A flush warmed her cheeks and she pointed at him and then ran her fingers over Dogmeat's tail, then shrugged, shaking her head: _you no tail._

            The alien chirped and purred, laughing so that his mandibles beat. He shook his head and tapped his chest then mimed a tail, shaking his head: _me no tail._

            Now that that was settled, Sole sat down on the loveseat and pulled out her packed food. Angel took an interest then and tapped his lips with pursed fingers: _eat_. She nodded and handed him one of the containers, careful to avoid his talons. He seemed to notice, based on the way his mandibles drooped a little and his blue eyes dimmed. She felt bad, but frankly, he was scary, even more so out of his suit.

            She was surprised she wasn’t freaking out at him being five feet in front of her without the protective armor between them. Obviously, he wasn’t hostile, but she couldn’t get past the thoughts.

            So, she busied herself with eating some meat and ticking through her Pipboy. After brushing Dogmeat off, she curled all five feet eight inches of herself up on the cushions, boots kicked off over the armrest while she used her scarf as a pillow. When Angel went to sleep she would change into what she wanted to wear tomorrow so she didn’t have to worry about him watching.

            He sat on the edge of the bed and ate the meat she gave him. She watched him out the corner of her eye, curious about the process. He didn’t do much chewing, instead, he would rip the pieces apart and swallow them. Like an alligator, she thought. He didn’t have molars to chew, his teeth were more like reptiles than mammals. His insides were probably built to take in meat like that also. He ate it cooked, though. The mole rats from the station had been cooked over the fire before.

            Angel glanced at her, catching her eye, and she quickly looked back down at her Pipboy, trying to look casual. He hummed and purred something, and she resisted looking his way. Then he stood and cleaned his hands off on a towel supplied in the room for showers, but the thought of a communal shower in the wasteland had deterred her from trying it out. There were all sorts of possible diseases she could get.

            Angel then removed his shirt, his back to her as he folded it and placed it with his armor. Sole looked at him, watching the way his body moved with the chunks of natural plate lining the skin. His back was made of layers, allowing for him to bend forward, but there was no way he could bend back. It didn’t look like it would be easy to break his back either, the carapace overlapped in a way that allowed for twists and turns, but it was still solid. His shoulders were built very much the same, the scale pattern fading out as it got to the fleshy underside of his arms where the ribs and bicep faced each other. The outside had plates though, along his forearms as well, the back of his hands and fingers, sparing the joints.

            She was staring again. But he didn’t catch her this time. He kept his gaze forward, on the bed as he pulled back the blanket and looked at the sheets. Sole found herself looking at that patch on the side of his face again. She wondered what happened to him and how long he would have to have that.

            “Angel,” she said softly and he turned to look at her, sitting down on the bed, but otherwise not moving. She pointed at him touched and the right side of her face: _your face_.

            He nodded once and touched it. Then he sighed and held his hand up with his fingers together. She tilted her head and he splayed his fingers suddenly: _explosion_. Her brows jerked up and she wished there was an easier way for them to talk about it. She wanted to know why he was so familiar with human expressions, why it seemed like they understood each other so well despite being from different worlds.

            But it would have to wait. She was tired, and so was he. Dogmeat took the center of the floor. Angel slipped under the covers and turned his back to the wall, facing her and the door. She didn’t mind, it was probably a self-defense thing. She settled in to act like she was falling asleep as well. Once she was sure he was sleeping, she’d get up to change. She just had to wait him out.

            Unfortunately, she fell asleep.


	9. Water's Good for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Danse work on getting a home base put together. There's just one quest in the way.

**Shepard**

            It rained the next morning. Every drop was laced with radiation, too.

            “I’m not even sure that’s how science works,” Kasumi frowned and huddled up closer under Samara’s barrier. “I thought water didn’t absorb radiation?”

            Shepard shrugged and folded her arms, watching the Paladin’s back as he used the dead radio from Grunt and Kelly’s escape pod to boost a working radio they found in the cave to call his superiors. She wanted to give him privacy, in case he asked to speak to family as well, but she wanted to know what he was saying. Her paranoia insisted he was calling in the cavalry, claiming he was being held hostage by advanced hostiles and was in need of saving.

            Then she pushed the thought aside and focused on what he said he would tell them. His mission was a failure, he was the only survivor, the energy anomalies throughout the Commonwealth were in need of investigation, and he didn’t expect to be extracted.

            He was a rather solemn man, with a pretty pessimistic view of the world. He didn’t take long on the radio. When he came back, he was dripping wet and looked like he was trying not to shiver.

            “I’m done,” he said and stood straighter. He’d taken his hood off, showing off the dense black hair he had. It suited him.

            “That was fast, what’d they say?”

            “I didn’t speak with anyone, I set the message to loop on the frequency and they’ll do with it what they will,” he said calmly and Shepard gaped at him. She’d taken her helmet off and popped a few of the radiation pills, as long as she stayed out of the rain, she’d be fine. Samara had put up a barrier over herself, Shepard, and Kasumi while Grunt and Kelly packed up what supplies they’d had in the cave. Now Danse stood under the barrier also, looking up at it with interest, so he missed her expression.

            “You didn’t wait for confirmation of retrieval? Or, I don’t know, orders?” Shepard asked and the Paladin glanced back at her, thick brows heavy.

            “I apologize that my methods aren’t what you’re used to, but from everything you’ve told me you seem to have a far better chance of communicating with your superiors over long distance. We’re lucky when our suits can talk on missions, let alone the severe distance between here and D.C., they might never get my message. And if they do, they know I won’t be sitting by a radio waiting to get shot or eaten.” The man stood at his full height, putting him a couple inches above her. He was a solid thing, and she knew it would be rough if they started fisticuffs.

            “All right, Paladin, what is your current course of action, then?” she raised her red brows at him and tried not to look too condescending. He was a soldier, he wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t under her command. She had to back up and let him do his thing.

            “I suggest I stay with you. If the Brotherhood does send another unit this way, I don’t want to have to explain to them why I let you go wandering the Commonwealth alone.” Shepard smiled a little and looked him up and down. He wasn’t exactly equipped to go prancing around alone himself. It was smart for them to stick together, despite him being new to the area as well, he knew more about that world than her and her team, and they had the superior firepower.

            “Glad to have you on board, Paladin.”

            “Commander,” he straightened and held his right fist over his heart, feet snapped together.

            Shepard saluted him back, fingertips to her brow. They eased out of it together and turned to Samara who was starting to look weary from holding up the barrier for so long. “We should get into the cave, and then get a plan together.”

            “Agreed,” the Paladin nodded and they made their way back into cover.

 

 

            “There’s a settlement not far from here,” Danse gestured up to the north. “We can make it there in an hour. My team and I passed by, but didn’t make contact. It seems that the population is primarily robotic.”

            “Robots?” Shepard raised her eyebrows at him and made it very clear she was curious.

            “Yes, the home assistance models. They aren’t built for combat, but it doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous,” he was careful to add.

            “Understood, what would we gain from going to them?”

            “Shelter, at least,” Danse pointed out, glancing at her. “Some security, they don’t have to sleep, means whoever we keep on watch won’t be alone. And the location is on a hill with an overpass nearby. We can build up the place, fortify it.”

            Shepard frowned and squinted, to try to see the outline of the settlement. It was too far and the rain left everything foggy as the morning warmed up. She absently wondered what time of year it was, and what the weather conditions were like. “That’s going to take time and resources. I need to find my crew,” she said, looking back at the Paladin.

            “You need a secure base to work from.” Danse folded his arms. “The pods fell all over the Commonwealth, we’ve found two, and how many days have you been here?”

            “Three,” she said. “Not bad timing. I can’t continue to look for them if I’m trying to build up a settlement.”

            “What happens when you run out of ammo and food in your pack?” he asked, pointing to the Cerberus bag on her back. “You going to the closest pod to refill it, right? What if raiders get in there? What if you die on your way to the pod? Having a base of operations is necessary when working in hostile territory.”

            Shepard pursed her lips. Normally she had Normandy as a base, but until she found out what happened to the ship, all she had were pods sprinkled through the wasteland. “All right, Paladin, you win. We’ll attempt contact and alliance with that settlement.”

            Danse nodded his thanks and looked back at her crew. “They should probably keep their helmets on. I don’t know how Mr. Handys will react to aliens.”

            The team got ready quickly, and by the time the sun was high and the fog had relented, they were at the settlement. It was almost impressive, seeing the hovering robots tending to plants and sorting boxes of supplies. The place was in far better condition than anything Shepard had seen yet. It seemed these robots took their prewar jobs very seriously and continued to do them despite what happened.

            “Oh, visitors!” a woman’s voice came from nowhere and Shepard spun around to locate its source. One of the robots came floating up to them, three orbs on arms facing forward like eyes. “It’s been _ages_.”

            Danse didn’t seem at all phased. “I imagine you haven’t had many friendlies come through,” he said and the robot waved its claw arm up toward its center mass.

            “Oh heavens, you would not believe the number of looters! Thankful you seem the kind sort, am I right, darling?” Shepard’s brow quirked at the term of endearment, and Danse reddened a little in his cheeks.

            “We were actually hoping to settle down here with you, help you fortify your borders and use this place for a base of operations,” the Paladin started.

            “What sort of operations?” the machine turned its eyes around to look at each of the members of the squad. It lingered on Grunt.

            “Search and Rescue, allied with the Brotherhood of Steel.”

            “Interesting, is that a faction of the military?” the accent on the woman’s voice was high and wealthy. “You sound like a soldier to me.”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            “Oh, I do love a good man in uniform,” it said and tapped its center mass with the claw hand. “I am Supervisor White.”

            “I’m Paladin Danse, and this is Commander Shepard with her crew,” he gestured and the robot followed it to look at her.

            “Commander, is it?”

            “Yes, Alliance Navy.”

            “Oh, the navy!” the robot bobbed happily. “It would be nice to have some protection around here, but I must say, I have need of assistance before I can allow any more mouths around here.”

            Shepard and Danse glanced around to notice there were, in fact, no mouths there.

            “It seems we have a water issue, have you tried it?”

            “It’s irradiated,” Shepard said flatly.

            “It’s disgusting!” the robot shrieked. “It wasn’t always this bad. It’s a recent development.”

            “Two hundred years, recent?” Shepard’s brows pulled together but the robot _tsk_ ed her.

            “No,” she didn’t give a time frame though. “The plant isn’t far away. If you go there and fix our water issue, well I’ll make sure Brown and Greene just can’t say no to you all staying!” There was a smile to her tone, but she lacked lips to actually do the movement.

            “I have noncombatants, can I leave them here with you while we do this?” Shepard asked.

            “Of course, darling, we’ll take good care of your friends.”

            Shepard turned to Kelly, speaking in Citadel Common so only her people could understand, “You, Kasumi, and Samara stay here. We’ll take Grunt with us. I don’t like the idea of splitting up, but I’m not going to leave anyone alone and defenseless.”

            Samara nodded once and Kasumi frowned, pursing her lips like she’d hoped to come with. Grunt chuckled behind his helmet. Danse took an interest in her lack of English use, but didn’t say anything. They made a plan to come look for them if they weren’t back in twelve hours. Seeing as it was a simple, go in, clear the water, get out, twelve hours was supposed to be way too much time. But it was better to be prepared and expect to take twice or three times longer than needed.

            Danse agreed with the logic, and he and Shepard shared a stunned stare of understanding. Then they made their way across the river to the Weston Water Treatment Plant.

            The outside was disgusting. Red and green as far as Shepard could see.

            “Super mutants,” Danse growled, his lip drawn back over his teeth in a sneer.

            “Don’t like them, I take it?” she asked, lifting a brow. He looked at her sideways and nodded once.

            “An abomination of science. The Forced Evolutionary Virus, FEV, used to turn men and women into…” he tipped his jaw to indicate to one of the passing green giants. “That one there wouldn’t have been very different looking from me before being turned into… that.”

            “How can you tell?” she was suddenly very worried about the Paladin.

            “I’ve seen enough before and afters,” he said and readied his laser rifle. “We’re going to take them all out. What’s your preferred method?”

            “I’m a sniper,” she retrieved her rifle and let it extend forward over their cover. “You?”

            “Normally, I’m in my power armor and I tank.”

            “Well,” she grinned, looking him up and down in his flight suit. “Good thing I brought the krogan.”

            Danse glanced over at Grunt and the alien chuckled wickedly. “You ready for me, Shepard?”

            “Just a moment, Grunt, let’s check the field first,” she said and Danse settled in beside her to fire from her side.

            “They can come to us at this angle, lead them into a firing line,” Danse gestured to the slope leading up to them. “If we keep low, they won’t hit us easily.”

            “How long until they realize where they’re getting hit from?”

            “They’re not very smart, if you space out your shots well enough, they don’t triangulate them. You can have them running around the grounds without ever finding you if you’re patient.” Shepard nodded, she liked easy targets, but her gaze lingered on him.

            “Are you patient enough for that, Paladin?”

            He paused and nodded once, not looking at her. She knew that look, she saw it in Jacob Taylor’s face when he held a gun up to his asshole father’s head. He didn’t pull the trigger, but he wanted to. The Paladin would do fine, despite his hatred.

            Shepard picked off two before Grunt ran in and drew fire. Danse assisted, taking out one with a flashing red light in hand. As a team, they made short work of the super mutants, but Grunt had way too much fun with it. It seemed they hadn’t ever fought something that could go toe to toe with them so easily.

             Shepard and Danse followed Grunt through the bloody water, over broken down scaffoldings and catwalks that were supposed to go over the water pools, not into them. The inside of the plant was in slightly better condition, in that dead bodies with rotting meat weren’t lying about.

            Danse seemed to calm down as well, now that the super mutants had been dispatched and looted. Grunt’s pack was loaded up with ammo and weapons they got off the bodies and out of boxes. They also stuck a chest piece they found on him, giving the krogan a second layer of protection.

            “How did he come to be in your command?” Danse asked, nodding to Grunt. “And the other aliens for that matter. Is it common where you’re from?”

            “Not as much as the Council wants you to believe,” she smirked and started tapping buttons on a control panel to see what still worked. “We all still keep pretty close to our own. It’s only been a couple decades for humans,” she looked over at the Paladin. “When I was a toddler we had first contact with the turians. They’re different from asari and krogan. They have digitigrade legs and plates across their body that’s made of metal, good for the radiation from their sun. I wonder if the radiation being all around like this affects Garrus at all,” she suddenly wondered to herself, but continued explaining before Danse could speak. “First Contact was… rough. The turians attacked us because we were breaking rules we didn’t even know existed and they’re sort of… the police of the galaxy. The Citadel’s military and security were primarily turian until the humans came around, now it’s a good mix of the two taking up most of the population. Krogan stick to mercenary work mostly, unless they’re back on their homeworld trying to kick-start their population,” she continued to explain as they moved along to the next room, her voice lower. “The salarians and turians did a number on them a few thousand years back I think.

            “The krogan rebelled after being used to wipe out an invading race of insect-like aliens called rachni. Well, the krogan live for as long as asari,” they paused when a clicking noise echoed through the hall. Grunt was ahead, checking corners as Danse and she looked over control consoles.

            “How long do asari live?”

            “About a thousand years, but krogan breed like mad, they can have a clutch of about a thousand eggs, isn’t it? Maybe it’s a hundred. Either way,” Shepard shrugged. “It’s a lot, and they live for a long time. Meaning if they aren’t killing each other, they’re overrunning the galaxy. And they’re mean. Don’t let Grunt’s good personality fool you, most of them are attack first, ask questions later.”

            “Like what happened at the settlement we found them?” the Paladin asked without looking up from the soggy papers he was flipping through.

            “Yeah, like those,” Shepard nodded, narrowing her eyes at him. “Anyway, salarians, asari, turians, and now humans are Council races, and have the most pull in the Citadel, but there are a load of others. Krogan, volas, vorcha, hanar, elchor, quarian, batarians, drell, geth, hell, even some that aren’t quite as advanced but get off their world sometimes, like I met this yahg–”

            A loud alarm blared and red lights started flashing.

            Shepard lifted her pistol and Danse snapped to attention with his rifle.

            “Sorry!” Grunt’s voice echoed in from ahead. They joined him and found the button he pressed. “It was the only way to go on,” the krogan defended himself.

            It was. The water level on the other side of the sealed doors was sinking. By lowering the water, he also engaged the door, allowing passage inside. The flooding was still too much for them to use all the scaffolding, but they could access other tunnels.

            “There are probably more controls down there, look, that door opened,” Shepard pointed and Danse nodded.

            “We shouldn’t all go in, incase the door closes behind us and the water level goes back up.”

            Shepard hadn’t thought of that and nodded once. “You and I will go in then, Grunt, you stay here and watch the door. Your short radio working?” She tapped her helmet to see if he got the feedback.

            “Yup,” he growled.

            “Let us know if you see anything coming our way.”

            “On it.” The krogan straightened and looked around the room.

            Danse and Shepard moved into the flooded section of the treatment plant. They made it to the next doorway without incident. “That wasn’t so bad,” she grinned, but the Paladin was wrinkling his nose. “Besides the smell.”

            “It’s not just the smell,” he said and looked down into the water they passed. “It smells like mirelurk.”

            “What the hell’s a mirelurk?” Shepard asked. She stepped on something, it crunched under her foot. She looked down and frowned at the human skeleton that the metal doors had pushed out of the way. “Poor souls,” she could pick out three bodies, based off of skulls as their bones had mingled together.

            “They were trying to get out when the door locked them in,” Danse stated.

            “Imagine starving down here,” she looked at the thin stretch of hallway and tried not to think about what the stains on the walls were. “What a way to go.”

            “Hopefully the bombs killed them, not starvation,” the Paladin passed her and rounded a corner into a side room. There was another console, and they got the water level to decrease again. “You said it’s only been a couple decades and the humans made it onto the Council? But there were other races you mentioned, they’re not ahead of humans?”

            “Oh no, they were, technically, but you don’t just _get_ a spot on the Council. The asari and salarians founded it and the turians came in later. The Turian Hierarchy isn’t one to be messed with and because of their military prowess, they were made a Council race after that. And then it was the three of them for a while. Humans… well, we like to be dramatic. We petitioned for a spot and were laughed at, so we backed up and looked for other ways to climb the ladder. One of them was to get a human into the Spectres, the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance division. They’re an arm of the Council used for missions that the Council can’t really get into directly,” she smirked at that behind her helmet, following the Paladin down a corridor to their next console.

            “Did we get one? A human in the Spectres?”

            “Yup,” she grinned and stood a little straighter. “You’re looking at her.”

            Danse smiled a little at that but kept facing forward. “Congrats.”

            “Thank you.”

            “I imagine you helped get us the spot on the Council?”

            “I did.”

            “What’d you do?”

            Shepard sucked in a breath to answer, but Danse shoved her. The push came out of nowhere, and she knew why she hadn’t seen it coming.

            The clicking had been hidden by the blaring alarm that she’d almost gotten tuned out. The Paladin had seen the thing come because he happened to look in the correct place at the correct time. He pushed her out of the way to keep her from losing an arm to the pincher from a _giant_ pissed off crab.

            Mirelurk?

            Shepard rolled over the bar Danse threw her into and fell into the irradiated water, tossing her pistol as she went. Her suit screamed at her, telling her about the radiation she was taking, but she ignored it and tried to get her feet under her so she could stand or swim to safety.

            Danse was fighting the crab, fists in its face as it grabbed him, or tried to. He was pretty agile for a guy that spent so much time in a giant metal suit. He avoided getting snagged, but the giant green crustacean got his laser rifle, snapping the metal sideways in its strong grip. Shepard only saw flashes of the fight as she fought to get herself upright in the water.

            It was almost like something was holding her down.

            With that thought, she looked down into the murky water and lashed both legs out. They hit something and she was free. Trying to slow her breathing, she grabbed onto the railing Danse was fighting the crab on and pulled herself up.

            Weighed down by not only her hardsuit, but the backpack she wasn’t used to, she wasn’t able to get up high enough to kick her leg over and get up.

            The thing from below was another crab. It grabbed her other foot and her suit lit up red at the edge of her display, telling her she took significant damage. She could feel the pressure on her ankle.

            Falling back into the water, Shepard grabbed her rifle from her back. Her suit was airtight, able to keep her alive in space, and this water wasn’t nearly deep enough to worry her about the pressure breaking her seals. She took on water now, though, because the crab had got her ankle.

            The rifle’s barrel bumped something and Shepard fired.

            The water shuttered with the loud blast of sniper rifle. Whatever had hold of her, let go. Shepard put her weapon on her back and swam away, looking for stairs up to the scaffolding. The crab Danse was tangoing with went down and he rushed to her, reaching over the bars when she grabbed the railing. He grabbed her arm, his fingers slipping across the slick hard suit.

            Shepard grabbed the railing and pulled herself upward, Danse let go of her hand to grab her pack’s strap and a plate of her hardsuit. With the better grip, he heaved her over the side and she landed hard on the grated floor.

            _“Hey, uh, Shepard, there’s some crabs down there.”_

            “Thanks for the heads up, Grunt,” Shepard huffed and sucked in long, slow breaths before sitting up and pulling her helmet off. Water seeped out of her suit and she looked around without her display flashing red at her. “Thanks for the save,” she said with a smile. The Paladin frowned, though, looking down at her with a mask hiding his thoughts. She cleared her throat and pointed at the water. “There have to be more.”

            “There are,” he gestured to the far corner in the direction they’d come. “They just can’t figure out how to get up here yet. If we keep lowering the water we’ll either make it easier on them, or–”

            “It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel,” she finished for him. Danse offered her a hand and helped pull her to her feet.

            “We can get your pistol, too,” he looked over in the general direction she fell and she nodded.

            “Yeah, I’d like that back.”

            They worked more carefully now, clearing the levels with care. More mirelurks found them, but without the surprise and stress of swimming, she and the Paladin were able to dispatch them relatively easily. He used a shotgun Grunt tossed to them, and she used her sniper rifle at close range.

            They got the pumps working, and the water began to flow cleanly out of the plant.

            “Ready to go back?” Shepard asked, bending to pick up her pistol out of the muddy pile on the room’s floor. She hoped it was mud, but she planned on taking the whole thing apart to clean it either way.

            “Yes, ma’am,” the Paladin sighed and leaned against the railing. She smiled up at him, he was holding her helmet for her while she retrieved her pistol, his shotgun was resting on his shoulder supported by his other hand.

            “Hey,” she caught his attention when she came closer and he turned to leave. When his creamy brown eyes met her gaze she frowned at him, concern painting her face. “You okay?”

            “I’m fine, Commander. Let’s get back to the settlement.”

            “All right,” she said, not believing him. He would open up with time. “I’m here if you need to talk,” she said and offered to take her helmet back from him. He handed it over and they walked side-by-side back to the settlement of robots, Grunt chuckling the whole way.


	10. Saving Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Off to find Valentine!

**Sole**

            Sole woke up with a blanket over her shoulder and a pillow under her head. It was nice. Warm, and smelled like man’s musk, like Nate had gotten in late last night and didn’t shower before getting into bed. She smiled and nuzzled into the pillow, her hand sliding out to his side of the bed to find him.

            Instead, she hit a cold wall.

            Sole’s brows drew together, and she opened her eyes. Everything was blurry.

            She blinked a few times as the odd color of her wallpaper and rubbed her eyes to get them to focus. The wall wasn’t from her bedroom. The bed wasn’t hers. The room was wrecked like it’d seen a nuclear war.

            Sole gasped and rolled out of the bed, throwing herself to her bare feet. She stepped on a dog’s tail. The German Shepard jumped up with a cry and ran to the corner. A big grey blur from the couch rolled onto its feet and Sole screamed, covering her mouth to cut off the sound.

            She fell back onto the bed as the monster sat on the couch and raised its talons menacingly at her. It clicked and hissed rabidly, growls coming up with an echoing effect in its throat.

            Sole’s breathing came in fast pants and she looked for anything to use to defend herself. She grabbed the blanket and threw it at the monster, but it easily knocked it to the floor. It didn’t come toward her, instead, it stayed back, watching her with a predatory gaze, some sort of visor sitting over its left eye.

            She threw the pillow next and yelped when the creature grabbed it from the air and laid it down on the ground in front of it slowly, like it was making a point to show her she couldn’t hurt it. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she fumbled for something else.

            There were two backpacks on the ground in front of a dresser with blue metal stacked on it. The packs had rectangular things sticking to them. She grabbed one as she slid off the bed. When she chucked it at it, the monster grabbed it and gently set it down, hands out at her with its three fingers spread wide.

            She screamed and ran back to the bed. The creature was closer to the door. She would have to get within arm’s reach to get out of the room.

            It started clicking again, a soft rumbling coming from its chest. It made a fist with one hand and rubbed its chest. Like it was using American Sign Language or something, apologizing?

            There was a knock on the door. “Is everything all right in there, miss? I heard screaming?” The voice was accented heavily with something from or around Russia. She didn’t know who it was, but they were speaking English.

            The door started to open and the monster threw its hand against it, slamming it shut. It then locked the door, standing so that it was in front of it now.

            It turned to her and tapped its chest. “Enjel,” it said. It’s blue eyes locked on her, the mandibles beside its face flapped when it spoke, saying the word as carefully as it could, “Enjel. Enjel.” Then it pointed to her and said, “Elicity.” It stepped away from the door as the man on the other side knocked again.

            “Miss? I’m coming in.”

            The monster went to the dresser and picked up a piece of the blue armor. It put it on its head and touched its chest. “Enjel.”

            “Angel,” she breathed and felt her shoulders sink with realization. “Oh my God,” she shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Angel, I’m so sorry,” she raised her hands and then rubbed a fist against her chest: _sorry_.

            He nodded and then started putting the rest of his armor on. The door jiggled and Sole gasped.

            “Yes! Yes, I’m fine, I’m sorry!” she jumped to her feet and looked for an excuse. “I, I have night terrors, I wake up screaming, I’m so sorry, everything’s fine!” She rushed to the door and started fumbling with the lock. Angel pulled on the last piece of his armor and she opened the door, standing in front of the man in the wrinkled clothes she’d gone to bed in. “Everything’s fine,” she said and smiled up at Yefim. “I’m so sorry.”

            “It’s all right, I was worried something… happened,” his brows drew together as he leaned a little to look past her at the bedding on the floor. “Your, uh, robot did not hurt you?”

            “No, no, I just… I have,” she struggled with her words, still trying to slow her heart rate. “The night terrors, he was trying to wake me up, I, uh, programmed him to help. Sometimes it’s worse than others, I didn’t… I didn’t expect today,” she waved her hand and Yefim nodded.

            “I’m happy you are all right, miss,” he said and rubbed his shaved head. “Um, breakfast is still available. If you need anything, I’ll be just there,” he pointed to the lobby.

            “Thanks, Yefim,” she smiled again and the man nodded, backing away as she closed the door.

            When they were alone, Angel clicked and hummed. She looked at him and he rubbed his chest with his fist: _sorry_.

            “Oh, Angel,” she went over to him and shook her head. “Don’t be,” she pointed at him and shook her head, rubbing her chest: _you no sorry_. Then she patted her chest and rubbed it with her fist: _me sorry_.

            He clicked and tilted his head, looking at the bed. She realized then that he’d moved her in the night. He traded her spots and she’d woken up throwing stuff and screaming at him. Of course, he thought he did something wrong.

            She slapped her forehead with her palm and shook her head. “No, no, Angel, thank you. It’s not you.” She wished he could understand her. She wanted to explain what happened wasn’t his fault at all.

            Sole looked up at him and wiped at the tear trails on her cheeks. He hummed and clicked, looking down at her from the other side of his helmet. She wished it hadn’t taken him putting that on for her to realize who he was. She wished as soon as he spoke she understood.

            “I’m sorry,” she whispered to him and rubbed her chest with her fist, her other hand stretching out to touch his breastplate.

            The alien stiffened and looked down at her, taking in a short breath. This was the first time she touched him. She withdrew her hand, worried she may have offended him, but he clicked and slowly took her hand, placing it back where she put it on his chest. He shifted where he stood and hummed. It was a musical sound, flanging with subharmonics.

            Something wet touched her hand and Sole glanced down, noticing Dogmeat. “Oh! You, too, I’m sorry,” she knelt down and rubbed him roughly, running her fingers through his fur. “I didn’t mean to step on your tail, buddy.”

            The dog seemed to accept her apology. She smiled at him and then looked up at Angel. He was looking down at her, having stepped back so he wasn’t looming over her. She appreciated it, but quickly got up and realized she needed to change.

            “Uh, Angel,” she turned to him and he tilted his head. She gestured to her clothes and then pointed at him and the door. He stood there for a second and then jerked like he realized what she was saying. He nodded and went to the door, stepping out with Dogmeat. When the door closed she took a deep breath and started to undress, changing into a pair of camo cargo pants and a t-shirt Codsworth had picked up from a Concord store when refilling her wardrobe. It was the kind of thing she would have worn with Nate when going camping, so it fit well for the current state of things. She could latch leather armor over it if she ever saw fit, but she hadn’t had much cause for fighting since saving Garvey and them.

            Sole stepped out into the lobby with the backpacks in hand. Angel looked her over and chirped, she assumed it was a compliment and smiled at him, giving him his pack. An excited pit filled her stomach, so she didn’t think she could eat, but she took a few slabs of breakfast steak for Angel to nibble on while they looked for the detective. Yefim came by with a smile.

            “Much meat for breakfast. Good protein,” he complimented

            “Thanks. Do you, uh, know where I can find a Nick Valentine?” she figured she’d take a shot.

            “Yes, yes. Mister Valentine is the detective. He had signs with hearts pointing to his office toward the back of the city, near the Wall.” Yefim smiled and Sole nodded.

            “Thank you, Yefim. I’ll see you around,” she waved and started backing up. 

            Sole handed Angel food off the plate and he tucked it up into his mask so they could walk and he didn’t have to fully remove his helmet. It started to rain about when they found the red hearts to lead to Valentine’s. The door was an easy next step. Sole knocked but no answer came. She wasn’t sure if you just walked in or not, but if it was a business then you should, right?

            Sole opened the door, it wasn’t locked, and stepped inside. “Excuse me?” she said softly as she looked around. A woman in a jacket and poodle skirt turned around, her shoulders sunken deep.

            “Another stray coming in from the rain,” she sighed to herself. “I’m sorry, the detective isn’t in.”

            “It’s urgent, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said and bit her lip.

            “It always is, I’m sorry, but the detective is missing. He went off on a case and hasn’t come back,” the woman said and touched her forehead. “I’m going to have to close up the agency…”

            Sole’s heart dropped to the floor and she shook her head. “No, I _need_ him, my…. I’ll find him, where did he go?”

            The woman looked up and then seemed to notice the blue giant behind her. “Wh-what’s that?”

            “His name’s Angel, he’s my assaultron prototype, he can help too. Now, where’s the detective?”

 

 

            The Boston Commons. Nate had brought her there for a date on the swan boats. It was shortly after they’d gotten married and moved into the house at Sanctuary, before Shaun, while he was still in the army. It had been nice, relaxing, and romantic.

            Now she and Angel walked there, along the walls and shadows of crippled buildings and skeletal structures. He kept close to her, walking beside her, shielding her from whatever might come at them from the open streets. Since they walked with her left hand to the shops, she was able to look into most of the window fronts and stopped them when she thought there might be something interesting. A picked pharmacy for one.

            She found a safe with an electronic lock, unable to be picked and it looked like no one had managed to break the code yet. She didn’t have the know how, but Angel knelt in front of it and placed his left hand on it. An orange holographic tool she’d never seen him use before blinked into existence, acting as a gauntlet on up his forearm with a circle around his hand. He tapped some commands on the hologram and then the safe clicked, opening to show prewar money as well as a load of preserved medical supplies including six stimpaks.

            They loaded the supplies up into her bag and moved on.

            The city was thick with fog, bringing down visibility to the point they couldn’t see much beyond ten feet in front of them. But that meant that nothing could see them either. Angel had started moving slower, his head whipping back and forth, on a swivel if she’d ever seen one. She wondered if his suit or visor allowed him to see something she couldn’t.

            Eventually, though, they found something in the road. It was familiar to both of them, but more so Angel.

            It was an escape pod, just like his, wedged into the street.

            He ran to it and immediately climbed up onto it to try to open the hatch. He couldn’t get it to turn, so she climbed up and tried to help. Even with both of them, they couldn’t get the thing to budge.

            “Damn,” she huffed and sat down on it, looking around. “Do you think they’re still here?”

            Angel jumped down and looked around the base of the pod, where it was sunk into the mud under the broken concrete. He chirped and she came to the edge to look at what he was pointing at. A boot print. But not just any kind of boot print. That was a human looking boot, not whatever he was.

            “You have human crewmates?” she gasped and Angel jerked up to look at her then around, startled. “Angel,” she made him look at her and she slid off of the pod. She pointed to the boot print and then herself. He tilted his head and she pointed to the boot print and then tapped her boot and touched her hand, wiggling her fingers at him: _like me?_

            Angel pointed the boot print and then at her, but he held his hand up taller than her by a couple inches and mimed hair that stopped at his shoulder: _like you, taller, shorter hair._

            She looked at the print and then around, wondering how old it was. It didn’t exactly look fresh, but what did she know about tracking? Angel chirped and she looked at him. He drew a heart with his hands and pointed down the road. Valentine, yes. They needed to find him. If he wasn’t concerned about his crewmates, then she shouldn’t be either. They were probably long gone, and since he couldn’t open the pod they didn’t have to worry about anyone else getting into it, unless, you know, they had power armor. That was unlikely, though, so she, Angel, and Dogmeat continued to the Boston Commons.

            Ellie was the girl’s name back at the agency. She was nice and told Sole everything she needed to know who she was going up against. Mobsters that worked out of Goodneighbor, the kind that liked pressed suits and high body counts. They would be a mix of humans and ghouls –not the kind that liked to eat your face, but the sort that would tell you about the ‘good old days’ back before the war. They would shoot her and Angel on sight, so she shouldn’t bother talking to them.

            They walked along the wall fencing in the Commons to the station that acted as the entrance to the Vault they were using as a base. She hoped she didn’t have to actually go into the Vault. Today hadn’t started off great, and she knew if she saw anything that reminded her of her time in 111 she was probably going to have another episode.

            Angel knelt beside her and tilted his head, his sniper rifle ready and drawn. She glanced at him and took a deep breath, holding the pistol tight. He reached over to her slowly and adjusted her thumb so it was out of the way of the slide. He purred and chirped something kindly and she smiled, wishing she understood his words. Then they went down into the train station.

            It was a bloodbath.

            Angel was the most dangerous thing that Sole had seen since the bombs dropped. He probably wouldn’t even be scared of deathclaws coming right at him. His sniper rifle was loud enough to alert his position, but he was able to drop every mobster that came their way. Whoever he didn’t get, Dogmeat took to the ground so she could shoot them without much hassle. When they cleared a room Angel chirped and patted her shoulder. The contact wasn’t as startling as she thought it would be. It also made her feel helpful and better about her lack of experience.

            They made it to the vault with little trouble, thanks to Angel. And as they approached it she took long, deep breaths with slow, careful steps. Angel took an interest in her sudden change in demeanor but kept quiet. She walked up the stairs slowly and stood at the console to open the massive door.

            It had 114 written across it. There were at least 114 vaults out in the world. She wondered if they were all cryo facilities like hers.

            Angel lifted his orange tool and seemed to offer to use it on the console, but she shook her head. He let his hand drop and he waited for her, his helmet slowly turning between her and the massive cog shaped door. He probably realized there was more to her fascination that just awe, but he didn’t make a noise.

            Finally, she used her Pipboy to open the control panel and slammed her fist against the large red button.

            The alarms wailed and the door creaked as it was moved out of the way.

            The inside was different than Vault 111, enough she realized it was not her Vault. And after Angel dropped the two guys that came to check on the door opening, she was able to go in and look at the files on the computers. It had been so different from her Vault. This one tested high-class individuals under the guidance of a mentally unstable, anarchist. It was a social experiment, one sick in a total different way than testing cryogenic suspension on unaware occupants. One of the scientists in 111 had said he envied her and her fellow dwellers, to wake up in the future when everything was over. But that didn’t happen, and she was the only one left.

            She and Shaun were the only ones left.

            Angel took point from there. They found a map and he spent some time scanning it, quickly locating them and knowing where to go to get deeper inside the Vault. She was thankful for the time to think between fights. She wanted to put together what she would say to the detective, what information she had and how much she had to go off of. Codsworth hadn’t seen a soul around the Vault coming or going for over two centuries. Early on it had been opened by some of the workers, but they didn’t last long, and none stuck around Sanctuary. He mentioned the Vault-Tec Rep that sold her and her family their spot had come by. He was alive, a ghoul, but he’d wandered off sometime later when Codsworth wouldn’t let him stay in their home.

            Sole bumped into Angel. He’d just cleared a room that had scaffolding and walkways through a large cave-like room. The Vault hadn’t been finished by the time the bombs dropped, this section was still under construction. There’d been five or so men in this section and Angel took them all out from the door, funneling them by using the paths. She looted them absent-mindedly, picking up ammo and food that looked clean. Now they were standing above a hole in the ground. Angel barely budged when she bumped into him.

            He glanced back at her and she rubbed her chest: _sorry_. He nodded and looked down. Then he turned to her and tapped his chest, pointing down: _I go._ He pointed to her and held his hands at her, palms out: _you wait_. She nodded and then peaked down. It was a two-story drop. Her nose wrinkled.

            Sole bit her lip and Angel chirped, drawing her eye. He tilted his head and then walked over to the edge, placing his rifle on his back as it folded up. He turned around so his back was to the hole and he stepped back, falling down into it. But he caught the edge. She rushed to the side to see him. He dropped to the small ledge marking the next floor, and then did the same with the last ten or so feet to the bottom. Her heart pounded as she realized what would come next.

            Angel gave her a single finger: _one minute_. And took his rifle back in his grasp, going down to check the area below. She looked back at Dogmeat who was sniffing around a broken safe. Some purified water cans and prewar money sit around it. She grabbed them and stuffed them in her bag.

            “Elicitiy.”

            Sole went back to the hole to see Angel looking up with his arms out, then he pointed to Dogmeat who was peering down at him curiously. She glanced sideways at the dog and winced. He was going to be pissed with them.

            Sole wrapped her arms around the dog and edged to the side of the hole. He seemed to anticipate what was coming and dug his heels into the floor, trying to stop her. Whimpers came up his throat and he panted wildly.

            “Come on, Dogmeat, go to Angel,” she said and pushed him over the side, feeling utterly guilty.

            Angel grabbed the dog out of the air and put him to the floor. The dog shook and whimpered, but was otherwise unharmed. Sole took a deep breath and knew it was her turn. She could drop down like Angel did. She took her pack off and held it out for the alien. He grabbed it easily when she dropped it. He set it down out of the way and then watched her, arms out, hands waving for her to come down.

            “What was that?”

            A voice came from below and Angel spun around, grabbing his gun as Dogmeat attacked someone out of sight. Sole turned over and eased herself down so she hung from the first level by her hands. She could get down just fine without him.

            She dropped down, her feet forward so she would catch the landing. It was thinner than she thought and her weight shifted, nearly throwing her back. She grabbed the wall’s support beams and clung to it. The fighting below stopped and there was a soft clicking below her before, “Elicity,” was whispered up to her.

            She looked down, trying not to shake. Angel was there, only a few feet away now, arms out to her.

            She swallowed and started to climb down, to copy what she’d just done, but her foot lost its grip and she went backward into the open mouth of the hole.

            Angel snagged her out of the air and held her up, off the ground. She huffed and looked around, realizing she was safe. The grip the alien had on her was gentle, secure, and made her feel safe. Sole looked up at him and swallowed, “Hi.”

            He chirped and purred something back, then bent to put her on her feet. Sole felt cold when she took a step away from him. Angel grabbed her bag and gave it back to her before heading on toward a hallway. She took a few deep breaths, trying to decipher the feelings she had twisting inside her, and followed along behind him.

            He knelt in a doorway and looked through his scope. Sole followed his line of sight to a man in a fedora talking to a window. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it sounded like he said something about Valentine. Her heart skipped. He was right up there.

            Angel took the shot and the man’s head exploded all over the window. The bullet looked like it went right into the glass. She looked over at Angel and gave him a nervous smile. He trilled something happily and stood up, striding through the open area like he owned the place. There were catwalks crossing the whole atrium and they were on the second floor heading up to the third where the body was. She wondered if anyone else was in there, but no one came at the sound of Angel’s fire.

            Sole followed along behind him as they climbed the steps and then rounded the body. The man had been wearing a nice, clean tux, but he had severely stained it when his head popped.

            “I don’t know who you are, but we have exactly three minutes because muscles-for-brains buddies find out he’s not coming back.”

            The voice came from the crack in the window and Sole tried to look in, but the red spray made clearly seeing the figure inside impossible. He paced back and forth and lit a cigarette from the light that came out of nowhere.

            Sole turned to the door and tried to activate it, but the other Vault doors she dealt with up until this point had all moved out of her way when she approached them. Angel touched the terminal beside it with his holographic tool and the door clicked, moving out of the way.

            Sole stepped inside and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the man in a trench coat just as Ellie had described. When he brought the cigarette to his lips, though, her sigh sucked back in as a gasp and she stepped backward right into Angel. The detective had a metal hand and his face looked like it was made of shaped rubber, torn and missing in parts, especially the left side of his face. His eyes were yellow lights in the shape of irises, but every bit robotic.

            He was a synth. That’s what a synth had to look like, what Garvey and them talked about being dangerous.

            “Yeah, I get that a lot,” he said and nodded to her. “I’m not going to look an armed savior in the teeth, but not many folks go around saving people for the hell of it. Especially ones with arms like yours.” He nodded to Angel and then the window, “Nice shot, by the way.”

            Angel chirped and Sole shifted, “He doesn’t speak English.”

            “And he’s a…?”

            “An assaultron prototype from before the war. I’m trying to work out some of his kinks,” she said easily. She glanced over at him and Angel straightened up, looking over her to tilt his head at the synth.

            “Uh-huh,” he didn’t sound convinced.

            Angel pointed to the synth and made a heart with his hands, tilting his head: _Valentine?_ Sole nodded once and looked back to the robot. “Are you Valentine? The detective?” She eyed his trench coat.

            “One and the same. Who do I have the pleasure of thanking?” He put the cigarette out by tossing it aside.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, Felicity Sole.” She held her hand out to him for a shake. “I’m, uh, I’m looking for my baby, his name is Shaun, he’s less than a year old, three months last I saw him, but I’m not really sure how long he’s been gone or who took him, but I can describe them,” she started talking quickly, sucking in breaths as tears filled her eyes. She hadn’t had so much hope since leaving the Vault, and no matter what this guy was, he seemed nice and he was a detective. He could help. “And, uh, that’s Angel, and Dogmeat,” she indicated to the boys behind her.

            “Hello,” he nodded to the others and then looked at her. “We’ll be able to talk about the specifics of your case when we get back to my office, how’s that?” he smiled kindly and then gestured to the door. “Want me to lead the way out? I think I can talk down Skinny and his goons.”

            “If you want to give it a shot,” she nodded and stepped aside to let him go. “We’ll be right behind you.”

            When the synth left the room Dogmeat trotted after him and Angel stepped in front of Sole, looking her over carefully. He took in a long breath that sounded like a sniff and then tilted his head at her. She wondered what he wanted to say. He rested his hands on her shoulders and purred quietly. She smiled a little and touched his hands.

            The contact was nice. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed being touched. Anytime Garvey or Sturges reached for her she flinched, but she didn’t do that with Angel anymore. She waved her hand away from her lips: _thank you_. And Angel tipped his head in a nod. They followed after Nick together.


	11. Knock First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not super plot-heavy, but it's going to introduce a quest. There's also an appearance that I hope you all enjoy.

**Shepard**

            Greygarden was nice once they got it suitable for people to bunk there. With all the hands, they were able to erect a strong platform and build a shelter to put sleeping bags under. It would gradually be upgraded as they had the supplies and time, but it was more than enough as of now.

            Shepard took a deep breath and tried not to think too hard about all that hadn’t gone according to plan. She was lying in the sun, out of her suit, in her under armor, tanning her face, forearms, and feet as she’d taken off her socks and boots as well. The rest of her was covered in a skin-tight fabric not only holding everything in place but keeping her from overheating in the heavy suit under the hot sun.

            She felt his presence before she heard him step up beside her. Peeking through a squinted eye, Shepard looked up at the Paladin. “Can I help you, sir?”

            “Did you want to form a plan to find more of your crew?”

            “Are you offering assistance?”

            They stared at each other for a moment and Danse offered his hand. Shepard took it and pulled herself up to her feet. He looked her over and then nodded to the sun. “Aren’t you hot in that?”

            “I imagine this breathes better than your flight suit, Paladin,” she said and noted the damp stains from repetitive sweating. “Maybe I can hook you up with a suit, we just need to get into one of the pods. There’s the one south of here,” she gestured and he shook his head.

            “Don’t worry about me, Commander.”

            She nodded and they shared an awkward silence. “Plan?” she finally said and Danse nodded, clearing his throat.

            “Yes, there’s a city in the old baseball stadium. It’s the largest settlement after around. Diamond City, it’s called.”

            “I’m familiar, we almost made contact, that’s when we got your distress signal.”

            “And I thank you for helping, I’m not sure if I expressed my gratitude earlier,” Danse said, sounding a little uncomfortable. “I wish it hadn’t gone down like it did.”

            “I understand completely,” Shepard sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Akuze flashed before her eyes and she flinched, looking away from the Paladin.

            “I believe you,” he said softly, not looking at her either.

            They shared a comfortable silence as they remembered the lives they lost under their commands. Then they turned to each other. “Diamond City,” she said, getting them back to the original conversation.

            “Yes, I believe we can use their radio to contact people in the Commonwealth, see if anyone has found… interesting individuals, or if they know the locations of those pods.”

            “Not a bad idea,” Shepard rubbed her chin in thought but frowned. “He seems a bit skittish, though, do you think he’ll really be helpful? Guy like you walks up to him, he just might faint.”

            “Guy like me?” Danse raised a thick black brow.

            “You know,” she gestured to him. “Muscles on muscles.” His lip quirked, making the raised eyebrow look more suggestive than he probably meant it to be. Shepard wasn’t embarrassed though. He was an attractive man, and he was a decent soldier from what she’d seen.

            “Good thing I’m not going alone.”

            “I don’t think we should bring any aliens, though,” Shepard looked over her shoulder to see Samara using her biotics to move scrap off out of the settlement. Kasumi was helping Kelly with building beds that would keep the team off the ground. They looked like they were going to turn into bunks eventually. Grunt was pulling out a car that had gotten wedged into the ground and grown over by the local vegetation. He was having a lot of fun with it, Shepard smirked at the sarcastic thought as she watched the krogan beat the metal as if it would help.

            “We can go just us. It would be faster.”

            Danse’s suggestion made Shepard shift. She wasn’t used to work that was just pairs. She always worked in at least three. But she had to admit she and Danse did work well and quickly. The water purification plant showed that well. “All right, Paladin,” she said, turning to him. “You and me. I’ll get you some armor though, you’re not running around in your pj’s anymore.”

            “It’s a flight suit,” he frowned and she smirked, walking away without acknowledging his reply.

            Turns out, Danse looked damn good in a hard suit. He was a bit bigger than Jacob, but Cerberus must have had soldiers that were bigger than him because they had not only under armor that fit him, but a suit. Shepard stood outside the pod and kept watch while the Paladin changed. He climbed out and dropped onto the soft ground as if he weighed more than he thought he would, but was used to toting more.

            It made sense, but she still thought it was a funny look. He didn’t pick at it, instead, he rolled his shoulders and tested his reach. “How’s it feel?” Shepard asked with a raised brow.

            “Tighter than the flight suit,” he grunted and then looked at his left arm. When he rotated it and the orange holographic display lit up. “What’s that?” he wrinkled his nose.

            “It’s a future invention called an omnitool. It acts as a radio, a personal computer, a vitals reader, a hacking device… it does a lot,” she shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about it, if we need to use one, I’ll use mine.”

            “How do I get rid of it?”

            She stepped up to him and touched his forearm, locking it off so it wouldn’t come back. “There,” she smiled up at him. Danse looked down at her, creamy brown eyes deep.

            “Thank you.”

            “Helmet or visor?”

            “What?”

            Shepard smiled and going around him, climbing up into the pod. “I prefer the visor, personally, but I haven’t gotten used to the radiation yet, so I’m a little iffy on using it.”

            She dropped into it and reemerged with two visors. She offered one to the Paladin who took it as she put her own on.

            “I can just take double the radiation pills,” she shrugged and tapped the visor so that it turned on, focusing on his vitals since he was the first thing she looked at. His heart was coming down from a rapid pace, but otherwise, he was normal from what she could read. He did have a higher than normal radiation level, but that was probably his resistance to it messing with her readings.

            “I also have Rad-X, which will help against radiation absorption. Though, if you get sick, you’ll need radaway.” Danse put the visor on and looked around after tapping it like she did. “Interesting.”

            “Isn’t it? I can’t imagine what it’s like for you, this is all standard for the Alliance and Cerberus.”

            “Cerberus? I haven’t heard you mention them yet,” he looked her way and she gestured to the pod, at the Cerberus emblem.

            “They’re… who reconstructed me after I died. They’re the reason I’m alive.”

            “You died?” his brows drew together and he faced her squarely.

            “Yeah, I think I brushed over it before,” she shrugged and crossed her arms. “I’m all human, we had this conversation. I just have a lot of cybernetics keeping me together.”

            He nodded, but eyed her a little more carefully now. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

            “Our ship was attacked. I got most of the crew out, but I didn’t make it. I suffocated in space because my suit suffered a leak. My whole team listened to me die. I was lost to them, pulled into the nearby planet’s gravity. I woke up two years later when the Cerberus facility that was putting me together was attacked.” Shepard took a deep breath and smiled a little, “I was brought back to save the galaxy after delaying the end. And I barely managed to do so, and on my way home, I found myself here.”

            “Sounds like a hell of a trip.”

            “It was. We went to the center of the galaxy, went where no ship had returned from before. And, well,” she gestured around, “We didn’t return either. Instead, we hit an earth that is on a _very_ different timeline than my own.”

            The Paladin looked her over and then nodded once, seeming to decide he was going to believe her. “We should get going to Diamond City if we’re going to get there before nightfall.”

            “Lead the way, soldier,” she nodded for him to go and he started walking, laser rifle across his chest.

 

 

            They made it to Diamond City right at dusk. The place was locked up for the night with the thick green blast door looking gate down. Danse walked up to the buzzer and spoke with a security officer about coming in. He finally let them when Danse mentioned he was a member of the Brotherhood of Steel.

            It didn’t sound like the officer –by the sound of him, a young man– knew what the Brotherhood was, but he also didn’t want to piss them off. So, Shepard and Danse made their way into the old baseball stadium.

            It was ancient looking, like old pictures of the Roman Coliseums before they were lost to wars and erosion. She’d never seen a game in one of them, but had seen pictures. She knew the football ones were bigger, but the games they had after expanding out to the other systems and meeting aliens dwarfed the ones they had when it was just them and Earth.

            Danse looked impressed with the state of the place, but expressed his disappointment that they had to cower in the stadium when the buildings outside could be fixed up and made to be such a better place to live.

            The soldiers made their way down into the city and asked a guard for directions to the inn and radio studio. After obtaining both, they went to the station first. When they knocked, no one answered and they decided to try again in the morning. The inn was unique. It had been built into the dugout and as named for it.

            Two brothers with thick accents ran the place. Danse and Shepard took seats at a lone table and waited for the tender to come their way and take their order.

            “Names Vadim,” he grinned at Shepard and looked them both over. “Nice armor, new?”

            “Sort of,” Shepard replied and crossed her legs best she could in the suit. “I’d like a shot of bourbon and something hot to eat, preferably red meat.”

            “I have just the thing,” Vadim said and looked to Danse.

            “Make it two.”

            “Straight away,” the man walked back to the bar and yelled for his brother to start cooking.

            “He won’t stop looking at you,” the Paladin said, nodding toward the bartender. Shepard didn’t look and simply shrugged.

            “It happens, he probably likes the N7,” she tapped the emblem on her black chest piece.

            “What is it? Not a rank,” he said and shifted in his seat some.

            “It’s special training,” she started and went into explaining what it meant for the Alliance and the kind of people it took to complete it.

            Vadim brought their drinks and tried to linger, but Shepard gave him a look that sent him off. Danse chuckled but didn’t say anything as he took a drink. They sat in quiet and listened to the radio play. It was comfortable, calm, as the inn lulled with a late crowd between night owls and those finishing dinner.

            “Do you know how you’re going to get back?” Danse asked, breaking the silence.

            Shepard thought about it and shrugged. “I’ll have to talk with my ship’s AI, EDI, to see what our options are. I think a Relay got us here, so, in theory, a relay will get us back.”

            “Relay?” his brows quirked. His fingers held his glass at the sides, turning it to watch the amber liquid swirl around the edges.

            “Mass Relays,” she tapped her armor. “It’s the same tech that shields these suits. We use them to travel across the galaxy, they slingshot our ships around at otherwise unmatchable speeds. It’s why we are able to reach so many different aliens.”

            “I wonder if those aliens can be found here as well,” Danse glanced at a poster on the wall. It was faded but featured a green man in a silly looking space suit pointing his blaster just to the right of the viewer.

            “None that I’ve seen look like those,” she said and then tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, a green salarian, maybe, but that’s the closest I can imagine, they’re much taller and their heads aren’t so exaggerated.”

            Danse’s nose wrinkled at his mental image. “I think I prefer the turtle man.”

            “Grunt?” she smiled. “He’s a krogan. But I think you’d actually like turians. They’re very militaristic. When we find Garrus we’ll get you two talking. You’ll be best friends,” she waved at him and looked around the lobby.

            A woman with brown hair, dressed in clothes a little cleaner than everyone was talking to the bartender’s brother. A German Shepard sat at her feet, looking off behind her to a suite door that closed right when the Commander looked at it. The woman was smiling politely at the man holding two plates of what looked like steaks. Probably her and Danse’s.

            “Yeah, Angel went on to the room,” the woman gestured to the door that had closed. “It’s been a long day. Thanks for letting us renew the room.”

            Danse followed Shepard’s line of sight and raised an eyebrow. “Do you know her?”

            “No, I’m looking at the steaks.”

            The Paladin chuckled and then tilted his head. “The dog looks healthy. Hard to come by ones with fur so nice.”

            “Yeah?” The dog looked friendly and for a brief moment, Shepard was tempted to go pet it. But the woman departed from the brother and went to her room. There was a flash of navy inside, making Shepard blink, but by the time she refocused her attention the door was shut.

            The steak was put down in front of her and she turned back to Danse. “Better than the mess,” he breathed, taking a bite.

            “Tell me about it,” Shepard grinned, knowing just by the look it would be better than what Cerberus tried to feed them before she got Gardner his spices. They ate in silence and then paid for the food along with a room. Since Danse was the only one with money, they didn’t have much and decided on a single room. There was a couch across from the bed, which meant they would have room to themselves.

            “You can take the bed,” Danse said and gestured to it, closing the door quietly.

            “Thank you, Paladin,” she said and began stripping her armor. The man did the same and they went to sleep in their under armor, both facing the room with their backs to the wall so they could see the door.

            And each other.

 

 

            Shepard woke up when she heard the door open and close. She was left alone in the room, lit with a small corner lamp they both left on out of necessity to see. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust each other. They were in an unfamiliar place, and neither of them knew what could happen in the night. So, they kept a single light on, allowing them to see whatever happened in the room, friendly or not.

            Left alone, Shepard slid out of bed and went to her pack, picking out the fresh under armor she’d packed. For five days she’d been wearing the same clothes, and it was getting gross. She could feel her skin protest. It wasn’t the longest she’d had to go, but it was more than she was used to having spent the last year working for Cerberus.

            She was pretty sure Cerberus made sure she didn’t wear the same under armor twice, ever.

            Shepard stripped and tossed her old clothes onto the bed. She got the pants halfway on when the door opened back up.

            She spun around, a pyjak in the crosshairs, or rather, a woman caught with her pants down.

            Danse stood in the doorway, a glass of water in hand. He was standing with his lips parted and his brown eyes stuck wide. He still held the door and was halfway through a step forward. It appeared he was just as startled as she was.

            Shepard jerked her pants up onto her hips the rest of the way. They were elastic and fit like a glove, so she had to reach down and adjust some of the fit on her calves, then at the thighs. The whole time she and Danse kept their eyes on each other, neither one able to break the spell.

            When she was situated, Shepard straightened up and put her hands on her hips. “So, um, door?” she raised an eyebrow.

            The Paladin jerked as if he’d been struck by lightning and quickly –too quickly– closed the door and put his back to her. He cleared his throat a few times and then chugged his water. She could see he was gripping the glass tight.

            Shepard tried not to let her chuckle be heard. She put her back to the soldier. “What time is it?”

            “Oh five hundred.”

            “Not bad, but I don’t think that radio studio’s going to be open this early.” She picked up the shirt and worked it on. “Were you going back to sleep?”

            “Yes, I just needed something to drink.” His voice was thick, she couldn’t tell what from though.

            “I understand, I didn’t realize you’d be so quick,” she turned back around and adjusted her sleeves. “It’s safe to look, by the way.”

            He waited a few more seconds before turning. When he did, he avoided looking at her and went to the couch, setting his empty glass on the ground. Then he stretched himself across the couch and rolled so his back was to her. She would have been offended if she didn’t think he was just embarrassed. He seemed like the kind of man who would be embarrassed by walking in on a woman changing.

            She decided not to tease him and got back in the bed, but she faced the door.

            And Danse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses who the lady with the dog was? No? Maybe I can spell it out more clearly for you xD


	12. We Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of talking, some that may be frustrating for you all, and some that may (hopefully) make you tear up.

**Sole**

            Talking to Nick was exhausting, and it definitely didn’t help the dreams. Instead of having nice or obscure ones that matched what she had before the war, Sole had nightmares reliving the Vault, watching Nate get shot over and over and over.

            The worst part was this dream came repeatedly in the same night. She only slept a few hours and then woke with a cry. This cry startled Angel, who came to her every time with raised hands, whispering in his strange, flanging voice, “Enjel, Enjel,” and tapping his chest. He wore his helmet all night, and by morning had moved to sleeping on the floor beside her.

            Sole woke with a gasp instead of a muffled scream. Dogmeat jerked up at her side in the bed but calmed when she touched his head softly. This last dream she woke from had changed. Rather than watching Nate get shot, she was the one holding Shaun, and she was the one the bald man shot. He didn’t even bother asking for her baby. He just opened the pod and shot her. She didn’t get the chance to struggle, talk, or fight.

            Sole rolled over to look at Angel lying on the ground in the dim light of the corner lamp he’d turned on at some point in the night. He was on his side, using his breastplate as a pillow to lift his head off the ground. His back was to the door so he faced her. With the helmet on, she couldn’t see his face. She could see the rest of him covered in his under armor.

            Shaking her head, Sole leaned back onto the bed and flung her arm over her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her body shook. Nick thought he knew who took her baby, but he wanted to make sure before he got her hopes up. It meant he went sleuthing while she slept all night, or tried to. Nick had had her gone through every detail she could remember from the time the bombs dropped to her coming out of the Vault. Coming out was very important because he needed to know how the suspects got into it in the first place.

            She’d mentioned that if you knew where to look, you could easily take the elevator down, it was just a button, but they Vault door was locked save for someone with a Pipboy.

            Thanks to dwellers from other Vaults, those were rare, but not impossible to come by, so it was likely that their murderer had one. She couldn’t remember one on him or the woman helping him, but she admitted there could have been more people that she didn’t see.

            Sole took a deep, shaky breath and sat up. Angel jerked onto his knees and she turned to him, rubbing her chest over the blanket: _sorry_. “I’m okay,” she said and inched to the side of the bed. Checking the time on her Pipboy, she decided that 5 o’clock wasn’t too early to just stay awake, and Sole glanced at Angel and twirled her finger to tell him to turn around.

            Angel kept to his knees, but turned away from her, as she went to her pack and rummaged through it for some clothes. She straightened up with a fresh shirt and stuck with the pants that she wore yesterday. She pulled on her pants, then the t-shirt emblazoned with the cover of a Grognak comic.

            It was Nate’s favorite series, he kept the issues all over the house. She remembered picking up his favorite off the kitchen counter when she came out of the Vault. It wasn’t his original copy, Codsworth had found a pristine replacement, but it was the Jungle of the Bat Babies, and the creator had signed it.

            Turning back around, she grabbed a hair tie and put her hair up. “Angel, going to get ready?” she asked, getting his attention. His helmet tilted forward and then up as if he were looking her over and then he stood up, keeping his body faced away from her. She didn’t spend much thought on why, instead, she went for her bag and flung it over her shoulder. She tapped her mouth with her fingers: _eat_. Then she went to the door and let Dogmeat out, following the German Shepard before she went to the counter and ordered some waters to go from Yafim who was, strangely, the one behind the bar.

            A man came to stand beside her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was tall, tanned from being in the sun, with thick black hair and creamy brown eyes. He was dressed in a tight uniform that looked a lot like the under armor that Angel wore. Sole’s heart skipped.

            “Can I get a glass of water?” he asked Yafim when he brought Sole her cans.

            “Yes, of course,” the brother turned back around.

            The man noticed her staring and looked over at her. “Can I help you?”

            “I’m sorry,” she stuttered out and straightened up. He was huge, bigger than Nate was, and could be _any_ kind of person. He looked nice enough, sure, but that didn’t mean anything. He was either a member of Angel’s crew, or he’d stolen that uniform. “I was just wondering where you got the, uh, jumpsuit,” she gestured with one of the cans of water and the man looked down at himself like he forgot he was wearing it. That either meant he was used to wearing it, or it was completely new. Not helpful.

            “Couldn’t tell you,” he said and looked back up at her with a smile that was meant to hide something. “Why do you ask?”

            “No reason,” she shrugged and then made herself smile to look casual. “It looks comfortable.”

            “It is.”

            “Can’t tell me where to get one?” she asked, trying another approach. “First time I’ve seen one like it, I’d really like to get my hands on one.”

            “I’m afraid they’re not easy to come by, I sort of happened upon this one.”

            An uneasy silence settled on them. They both knew something, but neither was willing to be the first to say what they knew. Given his words, Sole decided he looted one of the pods, or killed one of Angel’s crew. If her companion came out and recognized this man, though, surely they could talk. Until then, she wasn’t going to say a word. “Damn,” she stepped away from the bar and the man watched her from the corner of his eye. “Oh, could I catch your name?” she added, coming back forward.

            “Sure, Paladin Danse,” he turned to her. “Brotherhood of Steel.”

            “Never heard of it,” she said and frowned a little, wondering if that was Angel’s organization.

            “Oh, I have,” Yafim cut in, placing the glass of water on the bar. “A military from the Capital Wasteland, yes? Last remnants of the prewar army.”

            Definitely not Angel’s organization. “Thanks,” she smiled and Paladin Danse turned back to the bar, took his drink and headed back to his room. As he passed the door, Angel came out, pausing to stare at the man passing him. He stiffened and tilted his head, but didn’t otherwise react. Then he closed the door and came forward.

            He chirped and trilled, the subharmonics making it sound robotic, thankfully, because Yafim was staring down the alien like he came from space. Well, he did, but Yafim didn’t need to know that.

            “Thank you, Yafim,” she waved the water at him to get his attention and he nodded. Then she quickly ushered Angel out of the Dugout Inn. When they got outside, she turned to the blue armored man and pointed inside tilting her head as she tried to think of a way to ask her question. “Did you know that man?” she asked and pointed to him and tapped her temple then pointed inside and made their rather funny symbol for man.

            Angel tapped himself in the chest and then his head and then pinched the fabric of her shirt then tapped himself again, his head tilted: _Do I know the one in my clothes?_ She guessed it was close and nodded. Then Angel shook his head no and growled, looking back at the door. She could see his posture stiffen under his armor and he placed his hands on his flared hips. She thought it was kind of cute, but stifled her smile and touched his chest.

            He looked back at her and she rubbed her chest: _sorry_.

            He purred and touched her shoulder. The weight was a comfort, not heavy, but a promise of sorts. She stared up at the T of his helmet and wished for a moment to see his blue eyes.

            Dogmeat nudged her fingers and Sole looked down at him. He woofed and she realized he was probably hungry. She stepped away from Angel and ran her fingers through the dog’s fur before taking off her pack and digging around for something to give him. She ended up giving him and Angel both some dried meat strips, though the alien could eat his on his own and Dogmeat needed to be fed.

            They walked through the dark morning streets to the Valentine Agency, and walked right in as per Nick’s instructions.

            The synth was sitting at his desk, feet kicked up, smoking a cigarette as he looked through a file. He smiled when she came in and lowered his feet, talking around the cigarette in his mouth.

            “Good timing, Sole, I think I have everything I need. The man I believe that’s responsible for taking your son works for the Institute, have you heard of them?” Nick looked up at her with bright yellow eyes.

            “Yes, since I left the Vault,” she nodded and immediately took the seat in front of her. Angel stepped up behind her. Dogmeat settled in at her feet. It was nice to have them so close, the familiar presence of her most trusted companions.

            “So you know that most people think of them as a boogieman, that they aren’t even real.” He raised a brow, though there was little indication of it, as he had no hair or lines marking the space.

            “They get blamed for everything bad in the Commonwealth, but they are real,” Sole said carefully and gestured to him. “You’re proof.”

            “I am,” he nodded and let out a sigh, but no air seemed to actually leave him. Now that she looked at the cigarette, it seemed just to be burning, not actually drawn on. Interesting. “The man that took your baby matches the physical description as well as the professional tendencies of Kellogg, a mercenary employed by the Institute.”

            “Kellogg?” she felt her breath leave her. A name for the face. The man with the scar and the sneer. She remembered him better than she did Nate at this point, and it made her sick. “How do we get him?” Sole asked.

            Nick shifted in his seat as if he’s been thinking about that. “We need a starting point, and lucky for us, we’ve got one. Kellogg was in the city not too many weeks ago,” the detective started.

            “He was here?” she leaned forward, feeling a heavy weight on her shoulders.

            “Yes, at the time, I had no proof he did anything, so I just had to sit here and watch him. He had a boy with him, looked about ten years old,” he continued but Sole cut him off.

            “Ten years? Could it… could it be Shaun? I don’t know how long I was frozen since he was taken,” she covered her mouth and tried to keep the tears back.

            “The likelihood he would travel so long with the same kidnapped kid is unlikely, Sole, I don’t want you getting your hopes up.” Nick waved his metal hand to calm her down a little. “Either way, he got himself a house while he stayed here, I guess he didn’t like the idea of renting a room. He stayed there, played house with the kid, didn’t leave much to get food and other household items.”

            “When did he leave? You said he was here a few weeks ago?”

            “Yes, he left the house about six days ago after living there for roughly a month.”

            “Six days? I woke up six days ago.” Sole’s heart flutter. Nick seemed interested by this thought, too, but didn’t say anything. “We have to get into the house.”

            “I tried that already, the door’s locked up pretty damn tight, I can’t even get in.”

            Sole stiffened and looked over her shoulder at Angel. “I wonder if he can.”

            “Your,” he paused before saying the word, “Assaultron can pick locks?”

            “He can hack computers with a touch,” she shrugged and the synth’s brows shot up.

            “All right, we can give it a shot. If he can’t, we’ll have to talk to the mayor about getting the key.”

            The four of them went to the stands where a house sat alone with a long, narrow walkway leading to it. It was as if it’d been designed just for a mercenary recluse. When they reached the door Sole turned to Angel and tapped the lock with her left hand then pointed at him. He tilted his head but came forward and knelt in front of it, looking it over, then he pressed his left hand against the lock and the orange holograph covered his forearm.

            Nick circled the blue alien to see closer and then turned back to Sole. “That’s not an assaultron.”

            “He was a prototype,” she said, not looking at the synth.

            “I have memories from before the war, kid. I worked with the government on some shitty cases. I’ve seen prototypes, and I’ve seen assaultrons. This guy isn’t even a robot,” he stuck his thumb over his shoulder, indicating to Angel. “What is he?”

            Sole bit her lip, trying to think of something, but she couldn’t. Angel stood up and turned around, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. He couldn’t get into the lock either. Finally, she turned to Nick and looked into his yellow eyes. “I don’t really know what he is, but he’s my friend, and I’m not letting him out of my sight,” she said lowly and then crossed her arms. “As far as anyone needs to know, he’s an assaultron prototype. No one else has questioned it, and neither should you. It’ll work out better for everyone.” She turned to Angel and wiggled a finger at him to get him to follow. “I’m going to get the key. I want in that place.” She started walking away.

            Nick sighed and nodded. “The mayor won’t be in this early, kid. You might just want to slow your roll.”

            Sole stiffened and looked back. Angel stopped and also looked at the synth. She was shaking and she wasn’t sure if it was because the robot saw through her lie or if it was because he was right and that meant she had time to sit here and talk to him about Angel.

            “Now, I get that you have been through a lot, but,” Nick nodded to Angel. “You didn’t mention him in your report. You found him after you left the Vault?”

            “The day after,” she said and gestured to him. “He’s an alien, okay? Came down when those falling stars hit.”

            Nick looked over Angel, his gaze questioning, but not totally surprised. “I was locked up when they fell, Skinny’s guys were talking about them, though. I knew something was different than the meteor shower we’ve seen before.”

            “Yeah, well, he and his crew are out there. I’ve already seen someone dressed in a uniform taken from one of the pods, though, so I can’t assume everyone wearing the armor was with him.”

            “How do you talk? Just sign to each other? He can’t understand you?” Nick asked, looking at the alien as if he were worried to offend him.

            “Yeah, just signing. He can say some words, though. He doesn’t… have lips, so it’s hard on him,” she walked over to Angel who was now shifting away from Nick. He must have figured out they were talking about him. She raised her hands and touched his chest lightly. Angel looked down at her and tilted his head, chirping curiously. She tapped her chest, “Felicity.” Then she pointed to the synth and said, “Nick.”

            Angel shifted and looked at the synth and then said, “Nick.” It came out surprisingly clear, but the echo made it ring differently.

            Nick came forward with a smile. “Can I see under the helmet?”

            “I would prefer no,” she said and frowned. Something made her feel protective of him, and exposing his face felt… wrong. “The radiation made him sick when I met him. Since then he’s been fine, but he still takes his pills every once in a while. I think he tries to take them when I’m not looking.”

            “So he’s fairly intelligent, as much so as a human?”

            “As far as I can tell, yes,” she nodded. Her hand was still resting on his armor, but it slid down to his side. She hadn’t even noticed until Angel rested a hand on her shoulder. With the seven-inch height difference, she had to look up a ways to meet his gaze this close. She could feel his attention through the visor and knew he was trying to discern what they were talking about.

            “You care a great deal for him,” Nick observed and Sole jerked around to look at him.

            “He’s done nothing but help me,” she said, a little too defensively. “I’m not even sure he understands what he’s helping me do.”

            “Have you asked him?” the synth asked and pulled a pack of cigarettes out. Knocking one into his hand he offered her one and she shook her head.

            “No, thank you.” The synth nodded and started walking back the way they’d come.

            “I’m going back to the office. The Mayor’s open to visitors at eight, so you’ve got a couple hours.” He waved over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to spend whatever time you like in the agency. I’ll be there doing paperwork.” Thunder rolled in the distance and she knew rain would be on its way soon.

            Sole watched Nick go and then turned to Angel. He looked down at her and tilted his head. She wondered how to ask him if he knew what they were doing. She shed her backpack and dug around to find her locket. Then stood and showed it to him. Angel took a small step back as if he were afraid to touch it again. She recalled ripping it from his grasp and she rubbed her chest: _sorry_. Then she opened it and showed him the black and white pictures of Shaun and Nate.

            Nate’s was one from him in uniform. His dark hair cut short and close, he had his dress uniform on and a black beret. His dark eyes were locked on the camera, professional and cold, but she knew he was only posing. She could see him trying to hold back the smile. She tapped the picture and then her wedding ring. Angel nodded. Then she pointed to Shaun.

            He was a newborn in the picture, only a few hours old. Nate had upset the doctors by sneaking the picture when he shouldn’t have. But they kept the picture. He had her brown eyes, paler than Nate’s with black freckles in the pupil. He had Nate’s nose, straight in the bridge, her lips, curvy and full, Nate’s chin, pointed, and her ears, small and round. He had Nate’s pale freckles along the bridge of his nose.

            He was the most precious thing in her life. And he was gone.

            Sole tapped the picture and lightning struck. Tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she looked up at Angel while thunder rolled. She touched her chest then mimed holding a baby, rocking it back and forth. Angel nodded. Then she pointed at the door to the house and Angel looked. She waited till he looked back at her and then mimed a gun to her head and she pointed at her wedding ring: _they shot my husband_. Her arms shook, and she squeezed the locket tighter.

            Angel stepped a little closer and she pointed at the door again, rain dotted her arm, then she reached out and snatched nothing from the air, then patted her chest and mimed rocking a baby: _they stole my baby_.

            Angel growled and stepped even closer to her, so that she could feel him as much as see him in her peripheral. She was looking at the ground. Tears trailed down her cheeks and blurred her eyes. A sob shook her shoulders. She drew a heart with both her hands and then looked up, putting her hand over her eyes and looked around, then she patted her chest and rocked her arms: _Valentine looking for my baby._ The water started coming down quicker now.

            She waved between her chest and Angel’s, looking up against the rain. She covered her eyes and then patted her chest and rocked her arms: _we’re looking for my baby_.

            He nodded and took her hands in both of his, squeezing them gently. It was such a comforting gesture she hadn’t expected from the alien that she gaped up at him with wide eyes. Tears mixed with rain on her cheeks, but Angel wiped the stream away from the corner of her eye with his thumb and cupped her cheek. The cool, wet feel of the steel was surprisingly comforting. She thought she would be disturbed by the contact, or want him to stop, but she leaned into it and squeezed her eyes shut.

            Her breathing hitched as she sobbed into the alien’s hand. She moved in closer to him when the rain poured heavier. He circled an arm around her body and rested the other on her head, his fingers brushing over her ponytail. It was such a human thing to do she forgot he was an alien, she forgot he wasn’t from earth, and she forgot all the fears she had of him. Her arms wrapped around his tapered waist and she held onto Angel with as much strength as she could muster, crying with the rain, letting the thunder drown her sobs.

 

 

            Nick came back a few hours later to find the door to Kellogg’s house kicked in. He stepped in, first noticing Dogmeat lying in front of a desk, and then the open wall that didn’t look like it should open at all. Inside were Angel and Sole, inventorying the supplies in the small room with creepy lighting.

            “I see we didn’t need the key after all,” he said and noticed how Angel scanned some things with his holographic tool.

            Sole nodded, “I explained what happened, and Angel kind of….” She looked over at the man tapping away on his tool. “Well, he broke in the door before I could stop him.”

            “Let’s just hope no one notices,” Nick said and stepped into the narrow space. “Security doesn’t visit this house often, so I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m surprised they didn’t hear the ruckus.”

            “Thunder,” she said simply and Nick nodded.

            “That storm came out of nowhere. I see you didn’t find cover,” he pointed to her still drying clothes.

            “We were talking,” she said and then held up a cigar. “I think I have an idea on how to find Kellogg, though.”

            The detective nodded, “Shoot.”

            “Dogmeat with Angel. They should be able to track him down. Angel pointed out his ability to track using his tool, plus I think he might have personal skill with it. He’s a sniper from what I’ve seen.”

            “That’s handy.”

            “Tell me about it.”

            The detective nodded and looked between Dogmeat and the alien in the corner. “I understand this is personal, and if you want to handle this on your own, I won’t be hurt, but I’m offering my assistance,” he said kindly.

            “You’re welcome to come, Nick, I wouldn’t have gotten here without you.” Then she pocketed her locket and added, “But I want Kellogg alive.”

            Nick hesitated but nodded. “I understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel! You know just how to warm a woman's heart! The best friend we all need.


	13. Confidence is Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to talk to that DJ.

**Shepard**

            “There was this woman,” Danse was saying as he and Shepard made their way back to the radio station. “She asked about my under armor.”

            “Well, it is different than what people around here are used to. What did she look like?”

            “The woman from last night, that distracted the cook from bringing our food right out.”

            Shepard hummed thoughtfully as they stopped outside the studio. “The one with the dog?”

            “Roger.”

            “Hmm, she’s not from my crew,” Shepard looked back at Danse and looked him over. “What did she say?”

            “She seemed… like she was testing me. She wanted to know where I got the under armor, but I didn’t tell her. Something was… off about her.” His thick brows drew together and he folded his arms. “She did say it was the first time she’d seen one, but I don’t know if I believe her.”

            “Probably safe,” Shepard sighed and ran a hand through her red hair, thinking. “She could have come across one of the pods, or some of my crew. Maybe she thought you were a part of it?”

            “I told her I happened on the uniform.”

            Shepard nodded. “We’ll work on that after we talk to this kid,” she knocked to punctuate her sentence.

            They waited a moment, and then the door cracked, several chains holding it securely so that it couldn’t be easily forced open. The man in the crack was young, probably in his early twenties, and scrawny, wearing too-big clothing. He stuttered as he spoke, looking Shepard and Danse up and down. “What can I do for you? Uh, I don’t want any trouble.”

            “No trouble, we were actually looking for your help,” Shepard smiled at him, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible.

            “I can’t really… do that,” he said and shifted.

            “You don’t even know what I need?” she raised an eyebrow.

            “I, I know, it’s just,” the man turned back to look at something behind him. “It’s just, the song’s almost over and I really can’t be of much help.”

            “I just need to use your radio to try to find my crew,” Shepard said, offering her hands forward, palms out, but the man flinched anyway. She frowned and waiting for him to straighten back up and look at her.

            “I can’t, the mayor is really strict about what I put on the radio, and I can’t upset the mayor.” Shepard frowned and was about to say something, but he shut the door, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

            Shut out, Shepard stared at the door and then looked over at Danse. “That kid needs a backbone.”

            “He wouldn’t last a night in basic.”

            “He would not,” she agreed, and they went back to the Dugout Inn.

            Sitting at a table, Shepard mentally flipped through her options and hummed. “We could break in.”

            Danse snorted, catching the joke. “It won’t help.”

            “I just need him to get a notice out,” Shepard flicked her wrists. “He man’s got a nice radio, and he can’t put out one little message every hour or so?”

            The bartender appeared at the table and dropped two beers in front of them. “Are you talking about Travis? The DJ?”

            “Yes,” Shepard looked at the beers with a raised brow and then at the man. “What about it?”

            “He has no spine, yes? I have plan,” the man pulled a chair over and sat between Shepard and Danse.

            “You’re not going to kill him, are you?” the Commander raised an eyebrow.

            “No, no,” he laughed, “Unless you want to, I know where bodies never get found.”

            Neither soldier laughed, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

            “I kid,” the bartender lifted his hands in surrender and laughed again. “Joke, you know what joke is, yes?”

            “Yes,” Shepard nodded and then waved for him to go on. “What is this plan of yours?”

            “It is perfect plan,” he splayed his fingers. “Drink, drink,” he waved for them to take the beers. “The plan is foolproof. Travis is missing confidence, yes? He needs to feel like he can take on world. What helps man feel powerful?”

            Eyes settled on Danse and he shifted, uncomfortable, “Power armor.”

            “A woman,” the bartender corrected and waved to Shepard. “There is girl that works here, Scarlett. Travis looks at her, spends all night looking, yes? Well, sometimes… she looks at him,” he smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, but both soldiers waited for him to continue. “You need only to speak to her, get her to speak with the boy and then his confidence will grow, yes? See this plan is perfect.”

            Danse looked skeptical, but Shepard nodded. “All right, where’s the girl?”

            “Wait a minute,” the Paladin frowned and looked at the Commander. “We’re going to talk to her and say what?”

            “Hey, that guy you like likes you back,” Shepard shrugged.

            “That easy?”

            “Yeah.”

            Danse stared at her, his face painted in disbelief. “All right.”

 

 

            Vadim was the bartender’s name, and he was a _nut_. Everything went sideways. They spent a day and a half running around, getting Scarlett to talk to Travis, and then getting Travis to actually talk to Scarlett –because he ran away when she said hi– and then Vadim got the idea they should get Travis to participate in a bar fight to not only impress Scarlett, but to boost his confidence.

            This fight was coordinated with some street toughs that owed Vadim a favor. They were told to make it look real, but throw the fight.

            The problem was, Vadim forgot to tell Danse and Shepard that the fight wasn’t real.

            Shepard threw her ceramic plated fist into a man’s jaw and he hit the ground in a limp heap. The other man was thrown over a couch by a chest-kick from Danse. Travis ducked and weaved around the fists of the third guy, but didn’t throw a single fist. So the Commander grabbed the man by his mullet and Danse kicked his knees out from the back. The thug hit the floor with a yelp that Danse silenced with a strike across his face.

            It was all fine, for five minutes. Travis came over to thank Shepard and Danse over and over, for their help, but they downplayed their role as much as they could. The goons got up, over time, and Vadim spoke with one of them. They didn’t look happy, but Vadim didn’t look worried.

            They should have been worried. Because Vadim went missing that night. Yafim, his brother, was worried sick and came to Shepard and Danse in the early morning, knocking on their door as quietly, but urgently, as he could. He staggered through his words, and it took a moment for Shepard to work out exactly what had happened, but when she did she slammed her palm into her forehead.

            Their next move was Travis. He knew where the street toughs were located, but he decided to come along, instead of sitting on the sidelines like he always did. Danse and Shepard didn’t stop him. They did prepare to save his ass though.

            The location Vadim had been taken to was… odd, to Shepard. A brewery before the world went to shit. She guessed that if you didn’t care about your living conditions, then maybe it was worth the two-century-old beer and the chance to blow up. Did breweries blow up? She wasn’t sure. Moonshine stills did.

            “Travis, I want you to listen to me _very_ clearly,” Shepard looked him square in the eye. “We’re going into a fight. There’s going to be shooting. You need to stay behind Danse and I, watch our backs. If people shoot at us, don’t run. Stay behind us.”

            Danse nodded. “It’s very important that you keep a lookout behind us. There’s no telling the number of hiding spots there are in here. If someone gets the drop on us, it can all end quickly.”

            Travis stared at them with wide, blinking eyes. He looked terrified. Shepard wished they could have gotten him a suit, but there was no time. Vadim could already be dead –though she had a feeling he was going to be tortured first. “Behind you, always, got it,” Travis squeaked. “And watch your backs.”

            “Good kid,” Shepard patted his shoulder and then took point. Danse fell in behind her, glancing over his shoulder at the man behind him to make sure he stuck close.

            They entered, silently. Shepard found the guards off the entrance, in drink induced sleep. She used her omniblade to kill each of them without a sound. Travis looked mortified but kept his mouth shut.

            Danse shifted into the lead position without a word passing between him and Shepard. The transition seemed natural, they checked corners, alternating without needing to even gesture to each other. They worked well together, like Shepard did with Garrus and Kaidan.

            A well-oiled machine.

            Tugging an extra cog.

            Travis was almost like working with Grunt. The krogan itched for a fight, and Travis jumped at every sound made.

            Danse was the perfect combination of Garrus and Kaidan. He was a human, with the turian’s stealth, the devoted soldier of both, and the familiar camaraderie she had before Kaidan thought she turned her back on the Alliance. Garrus was always there for her, though, at the drop of a hat. It made her wonder if Danse was growing to become more like Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko, or C-Sec Agent turned Vigilante Garrus Vakarian. It was hard telling at this point, but she hoped more than she should that Paladin Sebastian Danse would choose to remain by her side.

            The real fighting started after Shepard had this thought. The brewery lit up with gunfire, started by Danse as he turned a corner and a man stepped out of a room, zipping up his fly. He didn’t notice Danse until the Paladin raised his laser rifle, but by then he’d cried out. Danse fired, and everyone knew there were intruders.

            Shepard threw herself in front of Travis as men came running across scaffoldings. She fired her pistol over and over. The advanced weapon ripped through the armor the men wore as if it were paper. Their own shots were quickly stopped by her mass effect fields. Travis gasped, but otherwise kept behind her.

            Danse charged into combat like a biotic. Or a krogan.

            He was used to power armor, but he had the agility of a close combat fighter. He used his shields to get him close, firing along the way, and then use his hand-to-hand training to throw men and women over the railings or knock them to the ground.

            He called out enemy locations for her, allowing her to switch to her sniper rifle just as she preferred. Moving from spot to spot, she kept undetected as everyone kept their eyes on Danse.

            His shields recharged while he reloaded, ducked behind cover. He was getting good at using the hardsuit.

            Travis, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to pull his trigger.

            Shepard stuck the barrel of her sniper rifle in a man’s throat and fired. As the blood rained, she turned to Travis, “You have to cover me, I can’t use this,” she held her rifle up, “This close. That’s what that’s for,” she grabbed his dinky pistol. “Shoot anyone who gets close to us.”

            “Y-yes, ma’am,” he breathed and gulped.

            Shepard knelt by an office window and rested her Widow on the sill and aimed through it into a man behind Danse with a baseball bat. She fired and his head popped. The Paladin glanced back for only a second and continued forward at his pace, chasing down a retreating woman trying to light a Molotov.

            Shepard grabbed the bolt on the rifle, jerked it up, back, and watched the spent heat sink jump out. The next one set in place and she pushed the bolt forward and down, locking it in. The next round went into the Molotov in the woman’s hand, exploding the glass and continuing into her side. She stumbled and fell, grabbing her side and screaming. Danse quickly put her out of her pain and moved on to clear the following room.

            After getting another sink in place, Shepard checked her rounds. She only had the one left, and then she’d have to go digging in her pack.

            A yell came from behind and Shepard spun around, firing on reflex. It just missed the man’s head, ricocheting off the ceiling to shatter a window. Travis spun around and held his pistol up to fire. He hesitated and Shepard got to her feet. She kicked the shotgun out of the man’s hands as he fired at her. The spray lit her shields up, but didn’t break them.

            Without his gun, he charged at her, fists flying. He was bigger, and there was no way she’d win in a straight hand-to-hand. Shepard used the strength of her hardsuit to keep his punches from landing in sensitive places. He didn’t like hitting the hard ceramic. His fists split, and he cried in pain, but only became more upset.

            Shepard looked to Travis. “Shoot him!” she called out and kicked the man away from her. But he grabbed her foot and twisted it. She used the turn to bring her other foot up and kick him across the face. She still ended up on her face on the floor, but the asshole went down with her.

            Travis was aiming his gun, pointing at the man sprawled out on the floor, but he hesitated.

            “Travis!” Shepard started to stand

            He pulled the trigger and it missed. The man laughed and lunged at Shepard just as she got on her feet. “He can’t help you, honey.”

            “Honey?” Shepard threw her head back into the man’s jaw. It hurt, but he let go of her for a moment, long enough for her to seize his arm and pin it behind his back, pushing him down toward the ground. “Travis! Now.”

            The DJ came closer and squeezed the trigger, but he missed again. The man laughed loudly and kicked his foot out, knocking Shepard off balance. She fell into him and took him to the ground. He rolled them over and grabbed her by the throat. She quickly reached for his face, getting her fingers into his eyes. He growled pulled his head away, squeezing her throat tighter.

            In that moment, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t get air past his hands. Her mind flashed to the last time she’d been grabbed by the throat. Saren had grabbed her and lifted her at least two yards off the ground on that hoverboard of his. Garrus shot him, got him in the arm, and dropped her right into the water. Shortly after she had fireman carried Kaidan back onto the Normandy.

            This guy had a better grip than the cybernetic turian did. And this hurt worse.

            Travis came closer and put the gun to the man’s head. “Should have come for me,” the DJ said darkly and squeezed the trigger.

            The man gasped right before the bullet penetrated his skull and he fell away from Shepard.

            She jumped to her feet, breathing hard.

            Danse ran into the room, laser rifle trained on the man on the ground. Then he looked to Shepard. He came to her and looked her over, his creamy brown eyes deep with worry. “Are you okay?” he asked and set his rifle down to check her.

            “Fine,” Shepard croaked. “He couldn’t get a long enough hold, I had plenty of breath.”

            “You’re going to bruise,” he touched her throat lightly, the cool plate of his glove a comforting feel after the hot hand of the raider. Shepard looked Danse in the eye and offered him a smile.

            “It’s not my first, it’ll heal.”

            Danse looked like he wanted to say or do something else, but he turned to Travis. “You did good.”

            “I… I missed, a lot,” Travis shook his head and then looked at the gun in his hand.

            “You got him,” Shepard said, her tone final despite the crack. “ _You_ saved me, Travis.”

            The boy smiled, looking a little surer of himself then. “Thank you,” he puffed up his chest and looked around. “Where is Vadim?”

            “I saw him tied up in that office,” Danse nodded to indicate the direction. “He’s fine.”

            “I’ll go get him,” the DJ rushed off, leaving Danse and Shepard alone.

            The Paladin looked her over again. He was standing very close. She could practically feel him through their hardsuits. She looked up at him, a smile curving her lips. “You look like you want to say something, sir.”

            His cheeks caught fire and he looked away. “Nothing, ma’am.”

            She smiled at that. Her hand went to his and she squeezed it. He looked at the contact and then at her. His fingers laced through hers and they stood like that for a moment, the contact more than they could ask for.

            Vadim’s loud laugh broke the spell and they stepped away from each other to grab their weapons. Travis and the bartender were headed for the entrance, looting bodies along the way, the Paladin and Commander jogged over to join them, acting as casually as they could.


	14. Killing is Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confronting Kellogg doesn't go as planned.

**Sole**

            The rain poured down so heavily Sole couldn’t see Dogmeat on ahead of them. She followed Angel’s blur up the roads and through forested hills. He kept close to her, and Nick wasn’t far behind both of them, able to see the best with his robotic, glowing eyes. They’d made camp last night, but she only managed two hours of restless sleep before she got Angel up and going. Nick didn’t need to sleep, so he took watch for the ‘organics’ and was ready to go when she was.

            Now Sole knew they were close. She was _so close_ to finding her baby. To finding Kellogg. His image was crystal clear in the rain. She could see his smile, marred by that scar across his left eye and down his cheek. It wasn’t a happy thing, it was a sick, twisted smirk of a man who thought he won. He didn’t.

            Kellogg was going to pay for messing with her family, for killing her husband, for stealing her baby. She knew all the horrible things Nate would do to him if their situations were reversed. She would try a few of them before she let the mercenary die. He would regret the day he entered Vault 111 and fucked with her life.

            Angel grabbed Sole’s shoulder and she looked up at him, narrowing her eyes against the pouring rain. He tapped her chest and nodded forward: _you go first_.

            It was a broken chain link fence. She could hear the patter of rain on metal more than see it, but the lightning flashes helped. Sole was beyond being startled by the thunderclaps, she wanted it to keep up, get worse, really make this moment as dramatic as possible.

            She started on ahead, the rifle Angel gave her across her chest. She squinted to find Dogmeat ahead, waiting patiently as his companions followed. They made it to a road after having climbed a steep forested hill. She knew where they were when the lightning lit up the nearby clinic’s sign. They were headed toward Fort Hagen. Nate had taken her there for one of his unit’s parties.

            Marching through the street without a care of being seen –whoever was looking would have a hell of a time seeing her through the rain– Sole imagined every horrible thing she could do to Kellogg if Shaun wasn’t _with_ him and _100%_ fine. No, better than fine. He better be the picture of health.

            Then she would only do half of the things she imagined.

            Dogmeat took them to the front doors. They were covered with blocks and bricks stacked up and set in tight. Recent by the half-dried molding meant to keep them in place. Someone didn’t want the front doors in use. The hum of turrets told her that the rain had acted as a good cover, but they shouldn't test their luck and run around the building too haphazardly.

            Nick suggested they try to find a back way in and Sole recalled the entrance Nate used in the parking garage when they had come here. “I know a way,” she said and started around, back into the rain without hesitation. Angel stuck close to her, his suit seeming waterproof, but the crest around his neck was practically a bowl, and when he tilted, it dumped. It made her smile just a little, but she didn’t call attention to it.

            The door was a level down in the parking garage. It seemed like no one knew about this one as it wasn’t even guarded on the inside. Sole opened the door and Angel slipped in, a shorter rifle up and pointing around. She’d seen him use it on the way here against some super mutants. It was a rapid-fire weapon, good for close encounters like this.

            Nick and Dogmeat went next, and Sole pulled up the rear. She didn’t mind, she’d already sat Angel down and got him to agree she would be the one to kill the man with the scar. He understood well enough. And if the chance never presented itself, she knew the alien wouldn’t hesitate to save her.

            The first encountered was a group of synths that looked like Nick, but not as… put together. Which said a lot as Nick was missing some key pieces. These synths also spoke just as they looked like they would: robotically. It was funny, in a way, because they were so damn polite.

            “Hello? Is someone there?” one asked and turned around into Angel’s rifle. He blew its cranium to bits.

            Sole smirked and they cleared room after room until they heard a voice. _“If it isn’t my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”_

            It was low, a growl said into the mic to put her on edge. To make her mess up. She didn’t. Instead, she moved with purpose, signing to Angel that the voice was Kellogg, who had adopted the sign of her pink drawn over her left eye just as Nick was a heart.

            Angel took point from there on, using his sniper rifle to pick off synths from corners, lying low so that Nick and Sole could draw fire up higher.

_“Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years. But I don’t need a roommate.”_

            “Actually, Codsworth kept the place spick and span,” she looked up, trying to locate the camera he was watching her progress with.

_“Leave.”_

            The word was said like a warning, but she didn’t feel it. Like a child trying to wear the grown-up pants. Kellogg knew he was in over his head, he was losing robots left and right, and he knew that she would reach him. He proved her right when they got closer.

            _“Never expected you to come knocking on my door,”_ he said almost casually, like he was leaning against the table. _“Gave you fifty-fifty odds of making it to Diamond city. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky.”_

            “Bet you wished you’d have killed me while I was defenseless,” she murmured to herself.

            Nick took a breath, more so made the sound as he didn’t need the air, and said, “Do you have a plan, Sole?”

            “What?” she turned to the synth.

            “I’ve seen that look,” he gestured to her face. “People who are about to make mistakes wear that look.”

            “Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow at him. Nick frowned at her and she looked away.

            “Kellogg’s not the kind of guy to talk, and I don’t want to see you do something you’re going to regret.”

            Deep, deep down, she knew he was right. Kellogg wasn’t going to give her anything. Nate had told her torture doesn’t work, not like it does in the movies and storybooks. People, especially people like Kellogg, knew that once a point was reached, you couldn’t do any worse to them. All the pain in the world would draw only what she wanted to hear, or spite from the tortured. She wanted the truth, and beating, maiming, and threatening wouldn’t get her that.

            But it might make her feel better.

            _“You’ve got guts and determination, and that’s admirable. But you are in over your head in ways you can’t possibly comprehend.”_

            She moved on. Angel charged a synth’s fire, taking it to the ground when he hit it. It smashed under his weight.

            _“It’s not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that.”_

            They stormed onward. Sole took out four metal heads on her own. Dogmeat grabbed one by the throat and grappled it down. Nick handled one that snuck up behind them. And Angel took all the others with his assault rifle.

            Then they reached a room with a door locked by an unseen computer. “Where is it?” Sole growled and looked around the room. She could practically smell the mercenary. Angel touched his orange hologram covered arm to the door and tilted his head. Then the voice came through again.

            _“Okay, you made it. I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk.”_

She stiffened when the door jerked open and Angel took a step back in his own surprise. He looked back at her and she pointed to him, then mimed shooting, and pointed forward, then she shook her head and drew her pinky down her left eye: _attack them, not Kellogg._

            Angel nodded and Nick spoke up. “Do you think it’s best to–?”

            “We’re moving,” she went on forward and readied her pistol. She didn’t need the rifle now. And she knew Angel and Nick were going to use close combat weapons.

            Dogmeat kept behind her, Nick behind him, and Angel took the lead.

            The next door opened to reveal a dark room with computers and cubicles. Sole shifted up to Angel and then put a hand on his shoulder. He paused at the weight, but didn’t tear his eyes from the scene. She stepped forward and the lights started to flick on.

            “And there she is. The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth–”

            Kellogg stepped out with his arms up, the international symbol for surrender, but the moment the three synths made themselves known, Angel had fired.

            Nick covered her by taking the one closest while the alien got the one coming at them from the right, most likely the one he saw first. Sole took cover behind the staircase on the left, over the limp synth corpse there, while Angel turned on the synth beside Kellogg and ran forward, shooting.

            He wouldn’t have been a very good mercenary if he hadn’t started shooting already, and boy had he. His .44 was loud over the softer shots of Angel’s rifle. Three shots and she heard something she hadn’t before: Angel yelp.

            Her heart skipped and she peaked her head out to see his armor shimmer and the next bullet –coming from empty space– go right into the thick plate of his shoulder. Angel growled an animalistic thing and retreated back behind cover. She could see something blue coming from the hole, like blood. She had never seen Angel bleed. Even the wound on his face didn’t have blood, but the tissue had been a sort of purplish-red color.

            Dogmeat rushed by her and Sole took the chance to fire, going for the direction he was headed. A splash of red and a grunt told her one of her shots hit. Kellogg was using a stealthboy. Something she’d only heard of from Nate once and never seen in real life. It didn’t seem to faze Angel, but then again, his tech seemed to be better than most of her world’s, so maybe he was used to fighting invisible people.

            Angel’s body glimmered and he jerked back into position, but his left arm wasn’t moving. He managed to fire with one arm, aiming where Dogmeat barked and growled, grabbing at open air.

            The next shot blasted the German Shepard’s head open in an explosion of red.

            Sole’s breath left her in a scream. ‘ _No_ ’ could almost be made out of the cry, but mostly it was just anguish. Dogmeat had been with her since the beginning of this. He’d brought her to Garvey, who in turn brought her to Mama Murphy, and she gave her the clue she needed to get to this point. And now he was gone. Just like Nate.

            Because of Kellogg.

            Angel fired and a loud grunt came from across the room.

            Sole jumped out and saw the stealthboy fizzle away and Kellogg hit the ground, hard, grabbing his stomach with his enhanced arm. She took the chance to gain on him and quickly noticed the white shirt he wore pick up red under his hand. “Where is my son? Where’s Shaun?” she screeched and kicked his pistol from his hand as he pulled it up, a sneer heavy on his face.

            Kellogg laughed, but it descended into a cough. She kept far enough away from him that he would have to move to grab her –Nate had always told her how stupid it was when people got so close to the enemy. Angel flanked her, rifle aimed carefully down at the man on the ground. Kellogg looked at him and wrinkled his nose. “Just like the Institute said. Not a ‘bot after all.”

            “An assaultron prototype. Now,” she fired a round into his shoulder, “answer my question.” He growled when she spoke, but she knew he heard her.

            Angel shifted under Kellogg’s gaze. Then the mercenary said something in a language she didn’t understand and Angel jerked, stepping back in shock. He replied and Sole’s heart pounded.

            “You can understand him?” she asked and Kellogg just smiled, laying his head back down.

            “I’m just a puppet like you, sweet pea. My stage is a little bigger, that’s all.” She resisted shooting him for the pet name as he was now talking to her, and looking at her from under his heavy lids. “Shaun’s a good kid. A bit older than you expected, am I right?” he tried to laugh, but coughed. “But he’s doing great. Only… as you can see, he’s not here. He’s with the people pulling the strings.” He wiggles his fingers.

            “Fine,” she forced a smile. “Then you’re going to take me to him. Right now.”

            “Take you to him?” Kellogg laughed, long a deep. After a short coughing fit, he finally got the blood out of his throat and continued, “Like I could, even if I wanted to. Don’t you get it? Your son, he’s in a place nobody can reach.”

            “Just spit it out, you mercenary motherfucker.”

            “Shaun’s safe at home, sweet pea.” He grinned showing bloody teeth. “In the Institute.”

            “They aren’t as sneaky as they think they are,” she seethed through gritted teeth. “I’ll find him, no matter where he is. _Nothing_ will stop me.” She wanted so badly to shove the gun in his face, make him taste the metal, the remaining residue. She wanted him to know he was about to die.

            “God, you’re persistent. I give you credit,” he sighed and closed his eyes. “It’s the way a mother should act. The way I’d be acting if I were in your place, I like to think. Even if it is useless.”

            “What do you know of the love of a parent?” her finger twitched and thunder rolled outside, shaking the building. It was the first time they’d been able to hear it since entering.

            “More than you’d expect.” He cleared his throat, all his jokes and smiles gone and over. “I think we’ve been talking long enough, don’t you, sweet pea?” he looked her in the eye. “Can you do it? Or are you going to make your ET pal do it?”

            Her heart skipped again and she remembered all the things she wanted to do to the man before killing him. She hadn’t shot him but twice, and he could still recover if they got him a stimpak. They could use him. He was important to the Institute, he knew how to get in. He knew what the inside was.

            He knew where to find Shaun.

            Kellogg’s breath shuttered and she looked back down at him. “Don’t do it, sweet pea. It ain’t going to go the way you want.”

            “Angel,” she turned to the alien, ignoring the mercenary. She nodded down to the man at her feet and then mimed knocking herself in the head and closed her eyes: _knock him out_. When she opened her eyes, the man had stepped forward and threw the butt of his rifle into Kellogg’s face.

            The merc grunted and blinked before going out with eyes rolled up.

            Nick finally spoke, “He’s going to either to kill himself, or someone’s going to do it for him. I don’t think the Institute is just going to let its attack dog be taken in so easily.”

            “They’re not touching him,” Sole said. They weren’t going to try to bring him back alive. They were just going to kill him. That just meant she had to keep him safe until they could get into that brain of his.

            Nick strode around the room as Sole picked through the unconscious man’s things and she looked up to Angel, wondering what they’d spoken about. She waited until the alien looked at her and pointed at Kellogg, mimed talking with her hand, and then pointed up to Angel: _he spoke to you_.

            Angel nodded and sighed. It was an odd sound to hear, she couldn’t remember hearing it before now. He pointed to her and then mimed height and short hair, just like before when he described his human crewmate. He gestured to Kellogg and mimed speaking with his hands, then tapped the T on his visor where his eyes were. Kellogg had seen Angel’s crew, at least one person. And somehow they knew the language well enough to teach Kellogg something to say to him.

            “We should take a look around. Get all the intel this place can hide,” Valentine said, heading for the terminal and supply chest nearby.

            Angel took off his pack and retrieved what looked like zip ties. Then he rolled Kellogg onto his stomach, pinned his hands behind his back, and secured them. The efficiency of it made Sole wonder if he had done it often.

            “Can’t crack the security,” Nick sighed and sat down in the chair and sighed in frustration.

            “Angel,” Sole gestured to the computer and he nodded. As the alien unlocked it, Sole knelt beside Kellogg and unbuckled his holster, taking it for herself. Then she rolled him back over and pulled out two stimpaks. He was still bleeding, and he was sickly pale. It didn’t seem like Angel was worried about the merc’s health. She was until they found Shaun.

            Sole pulled his shirt away from his chest and stuck him with both syringes back to back. She watched as color came back to his face and his wheezing breath eased. He would live, but he’d be sore for a while. A smile curved her lips at imagining the pain caused by transporting him to their next location. Dragging or carrying, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

            “Sole, you’re gonna wanna see this,” Nick said suddenly.

            She turned and went to the terminal, grabbing Kellogg’s pistol on the way. She avoided looking at Dogmeat’s body. Angel stood behind the box, head tilting as he looked between them.

            The terminal read: _Access: Local. Login: Kellogg. Notes: The boy, Shaun, successfully delivered back to the Institute, payment received. Now orders to track down renegade, gathered reinforcements, cleared out and secured Fort Hagen. We move out soon._

            Her first thought was devastating: Shaun’s really out of reach. Then she narrowed her gaze at the word _renegade_ on the screen. That was important. What kind of renegade? A synth? Someone else?

            “So, Kellogg wasn’t giving us any bull. Your son really is on the inside,” Nick was saying. She stood up and looked him over with narrowed eyes.

            “You’re sure you don’t know any way to get in.”

            “If I did, I would’a mentioned it sooner, don’t you think?”

            He was right and she knew it. “Then we find a way to get him to talk,” she looked over at the unconscious body. “We need to get in his head.”

            “Get in his head…” Nick whispered and rubbed his chin. “I think I know just the place. But it might be a bit of a long shot.”

            “I’ll try anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE LOST DOGMEAT!


	15. All Dogs go to Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dogmeat's funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be at the end of the previous chapter, and then I posted for some reason –I was getting ready for bed and had gotten to, what I thought was, a good stopping point, and then realized only AFTER that I wanted to end it when the BOS showed up. And then it was pointed out I never gave Sole the emotional break down for Dogmeat he deserved, so instead of sticking to my pattern and putting this at the beginning of Sole's next chapter, I decided to go ahead and post it as it's own little thing. I hope this makes up for killing one of the best followers in the game.

**Sole**

            Dogmeat’s body was still warm. His fur was sticky, damp from rainwater and her tears as she ran her fingers through it, and squeezed her eyes shut so she could fool herself into imagining he was still breathing for only a few moments more.

            He was too still.

            She did the same thing with Nate’s frozen body when she woke up in the Vault. She’d held him until he thawed out and his blood started to stain her Vault suit.

            A lump rose in Sole’s throat and she swallowed hard against it, trying to keep the flashbacks from taking over her mind’s eye. Dogmeat was her first friend in the Commonwealth, and probably the only reason she made it this far. No. Not probably. He was the only reason. Even with Angel’s help, she couldn’t have gotten here on her own, and now he was gone.

            Sole opened her eyes and touched the dog’s mangled face. The bullet had gone right into the top of his head, instant death. At least it was quick. He didn’t even get a whine out. But the .44 caliber bullet didn’t just go in and kill the dog, no, at point-blank range Dogmeat’s face blew open.

            Sole couldn’t even throw up.

            Looking at the mess only brought tears and choking sobs.

            Nick and Angel had taken Kellogg’s body away, and she used the alone time to mourn the dog. Her friend. She felt like she should have appreciated him more, but she couldn’t do anything to change what happened. Instead, she was left with a death too sudden for who was taken.

            And Kellogg was still alive.

            That was the most bitter thought she had. Of course, she kept him alive but lost a friend.

            A soft purr touched Sole’s ears and she looked up to see Angel standing in the doorway that would lead out. She wiped her face and sniffled, realizing too late she smeared blood on her cheeks.

            He came closer and knelt beside her, humming musically as he looked down at Dogmeat. Then he placed a hand on the dog’s chest.

            “Why didn’t I see this coming?” she asked Angel, not expecting an answer. “He is a _dog_ running up on people with _guns_.” She sobbed and tried to catch her breath. Sole grabbed Dogmeat around the neck and pulled him up into her lap. Her clothes were soaked from the rain already, but now she knew they’d be stained.

            Angel mimed digging and tilted his head. She nodded.

            “I need to bury him,” she stood up and tried to keep her balance while holding the dog. Angel took him, able to support the weight better. But Sole didn’t let go. She walked with him to the door and rode the elevator up to the roof where Nick was waiting.

            The rain had let up, and that allowed them to find a decent spot to lay Dogmeat’s body to rest. A shovel was a bit harder to find, but when they got one, Nick volunteered to dig the hole, as he didn’t get tired. Angel found another shovel shortly after and quickly helped. Sole just held Dogmeat and glared at Kellogg’s unconscious form.

            “We should have killed him,” she said softly.

            Nick made a sound she couldn’t quite discern and said, “We still could.”

            “That would be wrong. He’s defenseless,” she hated herself for saying it. Nate had told her about the kinds of people who killed the vulnerable. They were cowards at heart. Sure, sometimes it was smart to take out the person when they were asleep or otherwise distracted. But it felt wrong to kill Kellogg now, after knocking him out for a purpose, just because she was emotional.

            In the moments before she let herself get distracted by Dogmeat’s death, she’d made a decision, and she wasn’t going to undo it now because she was mourning.

            The hole was finished and Angel helped Nick out. Nick waited as Sole wrapped Dogmeat in her bloodstained clothes, positioning his body so that he looked as if he were lying down to sleep. The wrap wasn’t good enough to cover everything, but she hid the hole in his face so that she could pretend he just put his head in her shirt and fell asleep.

            Then Nick helped her lower the German Shepard down to Angel. He rested the dog down carefully, as if not to wake him, and then climbed out of the hole.

            Sole took Nick’s shovel and helped Angel lay the dirt over him.

            A couple hours later Sole sat in only her underclothes, watching the sunrise in the distance. The dark clouds were long behind her, but she wanted to see the bright orange ball of hope. The memorial outside Hagen was damp, and her underwear was soaked from sitting on wet stone, but she didn’t pay it any mind. Her pack had a clean set of undergarments and her dirty clothes from before, she would change soon, after she saw the sun peak over the buildings.

            Nick said they were bound for Goodneighbor. There was a woman there that could help them extract the truth from Kellogg with or without his permission. He also said it was lucky they did keep him alive, because he wasn’t sure how it would have gone down if they’d killed him.

            Angel came around the memorial and stopped a few feet away. He had his rifle across his chest and looked like he was walking a patrol. He probably had been.

            She looked over at him and he rubbed his chest with a fist: _sorry_.

            She nodded and took a deep, shaky breath. She waved her hand from her mouth: _thank you_.

            Angel moved to stand in front of her and put his rifle on his back. She looked up at him and felt a blush coming on. She was in stained undergarments, practically naked, in front of him. But she didn’t get the feeling he was looking her over. Instead, he reached up and ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away some of the tears and blood that rested there. The metal of his gauntlet was cool, and it sprung more water from her eyes.

            The tender gesture was extended to her other cheek with his other hand so that he cupped both her cheeks and cleaned away her friend’s blood.

            Sole squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed Angel’s arms for support as another sob tore through her chest. She wasn’t going to be done crying for a while, but the more she let out now, the sooner they could stop.

            “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing…”

            Nick’s voice barely reached Sole, so she turned around to ask him what he meant and froze. Coming from the west was a massive black airship, just cresting the nearby ridge. Flanking and guiding it were numerous vertibirds. Everything about it screamed military.

            For a second, her heart skipped at the idea of a familiarity from before the war.

            Then it spoke, an echoing call by a deep voice into a booming PA system,  _“People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are… the Brotherhood of Steel.”_

            Brotherhood of Steel. That man, Paladin Danse, had called reinforcements.

            Sole sucked in a shaky breath and stood up off of the stone. She turned to Angel who was staring up at the airship with a tilted head. She had no way of explaining what they were, who they were, or if they were friendly.

            They would be avoided, then. At least until they figured out where the Institute was. Sole grabbed her pack and made to change.

            She stopped by Dogmeat’s gave before leaving. The freshly turned dirt with a stake in the ground marked the location beside Fort Hagen. Pinned to the stake was the canine’s red bandana. She was thankful she couldn’t see the bloodstains on it.

            Sole knelt in front of the grave and pushed her fingers into the dirt, a long, slow breath coming through her nose. Then she straightened up and turned to the others.

            “Time to go,” she said and squeezed her dirty fingers into a fist, feeling the dirt cake under her nails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you continue on!


	16. Show and Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Danse go back to Grey Garden. They aren't prepared for what they find.

**Shepard**

            “That’s the Prydwen.”

            Shepard stared at the massive airship flying overhead. It was rough –granted it looked nicer than most of the objects it flew over, but compared to the Normandy, it was a bit rough. It glided through the sky smoothly and had several interesting looking helicopters escorting it, splitting off to do God knows what before others swooped back in. “She’s impressive.”

            “If she’s here, that means Elder Maxson’s here.”

            “Elder? I take it he’s top?”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            Silence fell on them for a moment and she turned to Danse. “What exactly did you tell them?”

            “I reported my team’s failure and death, then mentioned I had energy signals cropping up all over the Commonwealth I thought to be connected to the Institute.” He rolled his shoulders. “It was a short message, that would make no sense to anyone outside of the Brotherhood.”

            Shepard nodded and rubbed at her neck in thought. “We got Travis to put out a heads up for anyone under my command. He should play my recording every hour.”

            “You did it in… what did you call it? Citadel Common?”

            “Yes,” she nodded. “We should check on my team, go back to Grey Garden.” Danse nodded his agreement, and they prepared their supplies for the journey.

            Shepard couldn’t shake there was something different about the way they were working together. It felt natural, but stiff, like they were trying to be like they were before…

            Before what?

            She wanted to growl and mumble to herself as they walked through the decrepit streets of Boston. She and the Paladin _held hands_. Jeez, what was this? Kindergarten? She was acting like she’d never been in a relationship before.

            Well, she hadn’t been since she died.

            Shepard frowned and thought about her time since being brought back by Cerberus. She asked the Illusive Man right away where Kaidan was. She had thought about him first when she woke up. He was one of the last faces she saw before the shit hit the fan. When the first Normandy went down she had passed him in the halls, ordering him to find as many people as he could and get them into pods.

            And then she died. Gripping his arm, holding him still long enough to give a command, was the last contact she’d made with him while they were still considered together.

            The next time she saw him, they threw their arms around each other and held each other, but Kaidan was stiff. He was so… so worried that she wasn’t Shepard. That she was someone else. Some _thing_ else.

            She couldn’t blame him and promised to give him time.

            But now she didn’t think she’d see him again.

            That, accompanied with time to think about how hurt she was that he didn’t come with her, didn’t support her, and physically turned his back on her…. Shepard wasn’t one hundred percent sure she _wanted_ Alenko back.

            Danse touched her shoulder and she looked up, coming out of her thoughts. She’d been on autopilot, following beside Danse as they made their way from Diamond City to Grey Garden. Now they weren’t far from the settlement on the slope, and black had caught the Paladin’s gaze.

            “That’s not right,” Shepard breathed and sprinted. Her pistol was taken from her hip, drawn and pointed down as she ran as fast as she could. Danse kept up with her pretty well, most of her crew had troubles with that, but she didn’t think about that right now.

            She shouldn’t have left her team. Not with everything going on. They should have gone together.

            But it was too late. Grey Garden was in dying embers. The robots were destroyed, torn apart and blown to pieces. The plants were burnt. The greenhouse was shattered. And her crew was missing.  

            Scorch marks told her laser weapons, like Danse’s. But the tracks she found weren't booted prints. “They look like feet?” she frowned and knelt beside it. “Who runs around the Wasteland barefoot?”

            “More than you’d think, but look at this,” he pointed to the print. “Synth. You can tell from the shape: it’s too jagged. This is from metal.”

            It made sense, but she didn’t know what it meant. “So, synths attacked Grey Garden, destroyed the robots, and…” she waved around, frustrated, “Kidnapped my crew? Why? What do they do with them?”

            “Take them to the Institute.”

            Her heart skipped at his words. “How long ago was the attack? The fires were burning out when we got here….”

            “It’s hard telling,” he looked around, weapon still drawn, in case something emerged from the wreckage. “There are no tracks leading away,” he commented, changing their attention to the mess of footprints. “There and there, the big one, Grunt, he was stomping, and then his tracks disappear.”

            “Like he vanished,” Shepard knelt down and traced her finger along the curve of his toes prints. “What does it mean? Have you discovered teleportation?”

            Danse’s brows jerked up and he looked just as shocked as he was confused. “Not to my knowledge, though… that would explain some–” he stopped and shook his head. “We should speak with the Brotherhood. They’re our best bet for finding your crew.”

            “If any of my men hear my message they’re going to come here…” she waved at the mess. “None will be stupid enough to investigate it, they’ll know what happened without coming close.”

            “We can have a Brotherhood unit take control of this location, secure it, and await any of your people,” Danse promised and looked her in the eye. She looked up at him and bit her lip. Worry chilled her spine. She had lost the people she just found. They were gone, taken by this… Institute. And now she had no way to find them. Not without the Brotherhood.

            “Take me to that airship,” she said with the last of her determination.

 

 

            The next day they were coming up to the airport below the massive airship. Shepard looked over it as they approached. It was even more impressive than she’d thought before.

            Two men in suits of power armor guarded the compound set up to fence in the airport’s main building. They turned their attention and guns to the Paladin and Commander as they approached.

            “State your name and business.”

            “Paladin Danse, and this is Commander Jane Shepard of the Alliance. I’ve come to report in,” he raised his arms, but one of his thumbs was looped through his glowing dogtags.

            “Paladin!” one of them sucked in a breath, shocked. “We’ve been trying to locate you.”

            “Well, here I am.”

            The other suit came forward, weapon holstered on a leg attachment that seemed to be welded on after its original manufacturing, but suited it none the less. “I will escort you to the vertibird transport.”

            They followed the suit into the compound and up to one of the helicopters. Danse helped her in, and she tried not to think about how warm his fingers were. Once she was settled into the center seat, Danse sat beside her and showed her how to buckle the belts correctly by doing his own.

            The flight itself was short, but exciting. It had been a long time since Shepard had done any sort of flying like this. The Hammerhead was a hovering vehicle and road seamlessly with the terrain, while this vertibird, as they called it, worked very differently. The air whipped through the open doors and tore her hair from the tie she had it in.

            A smile split her lips and she looked over to Danse who grinned back.

            When they dismounted the ‘bird, Danse took point, and saluted a man in a decorative dress, vest, sweater, and airman’s hat. He was a stern looking fellow, and some years older than both she and Danse.

            “Lancer-Captain Kells, permission to come aboard?”

            “Permission granted,” the man returned the salute, fist over heart with a high elbow and feet snapped together. Then his eyes shifted to Shepard and he relaxed his posture into a tense stance of authority. “And this is?”

            “Commander Jane Shepard of the Human Alliance Navy,” Shepard introduced herself, stepping forward to offer her hand. “You’ve never heard of it.”

            “You are correct,” Kells said but took her hand in a strong shake. “I assume we have you to thank for keeping our Paladin alive?”

            “Yes, sir, though, after the initial rescue it was a mutual effort, he’s a fine soldier,” Shepard stated as they parted hands.

            “One of our best,” Kells nodded. “Elder Maxson asked that I forward you to him when you were located, he has questions pertaining to what happened. We expect your report by the end of the day. Your quarters are the same as before.”

            “Thank you, sir,” Danse saluted him, and then looked to Shepard. “What is your plan for the Commander?”

            “She will speak with the Elder as well.” Then the Lancer-Captain shifted, “You understand if I ask you to check your weapons before entering the Command Deck.”

            “Of course,” Shepard nodded once. Normally, she would fight to keep her weapons on her, she remembered every time someone had tried to disarm her back in Citadel Space. But now she didn’t have Spectre status to flash in their faces to get the rules to bend. And she knew how militaries worked.

            “Outstanding,” Danse waved for her to follow him and they walked on.

            The suited soldier at the door tried to check their weapons, but Shepard had to show him how to do it and removed the sinks. Then the soldier checked them, their armor _really_ throwing him off. But he managed, and they moved on to meet this Elder Maxson.

            Danse took the lead and they ended up standing in the middle of a long room with massive windows allowing them a great view of the Boston cityscape. The only other people in the room were a suit of power armor watching guard, and a man standing with his back to them, hands clasped at the curve of his spine, shoulders high, and chest wide. It wasn’t just show, this man was huge. The coat he wore was made like a bomber jacket and extended to his knees. The way it shifted when he turned around told her it had armor built into it. Smart.

            He turned around and immediately his piercing steel-blue eyes struck Shepard. They held her in place much like Admiral Hackett did when he glared, but this man didn’t give anything away in his composed expression. He gave her a once over and looked to Danse. As soon as the weight of his gaze moved, she could breathe, and Shepard looked at the rest of his face, taking in the detail while he spoke.

            A healed scar curved up his right cheek, drawing a line into his thick beard. That was defiantly not in regulation, but everything else about him seemed to be the definition of by-the-book. His hair was styled in a shaved undercut with long enough hair on top to sweep back. The look of him gave her the feeling he was older than her, but she could tell it was all the stress lines of his face, mostly in the eyes. He had to be in his early twenties.

            Which begged the question: how did he become the Elder so young.

            “This is Commander Jane Shepard of the Human Alliance,” Danse responded to something that the other man asked. The Paladin stepped forward, and Shepard followed, coming closer to Maxson.

            “I’ve not heard of the Human Alliance, are they a new faction?” Maxson stretched a hand out and Shepard took it in a firm, professional shake.

            “No, sir, it’s actually quite… complicated.”

            “I imagine,” his blue gaze shifted to the uniform she wore and then Danse. “I wanted to personally thank you for saving the life of one of my men. Paladin Danse is one of our best, and losing him would have been devastating. The loss of Recon Squad Gladius was enough of a hit.”

            “When we arrived the Paladin was the only one left. I wish we could have done more to help.” Shepard stood with her hands behind her back as they spoke, the Elder had adopted a similar stance when their hands were parted. Danse stood with his arms relaxed, looking between them, awaiting the need to speak.

            “‘We’?” Maxson tilted his head in question.

            “I found the Paladin with two of my crew. I am the Commander of a starship known as the Normandy SR–2. I had a crew of twenty-six total when our ship entered the atmosphere we were forced to eject in escape pods. My crew is spread all over the Wasteland.” She couldn’t tell the man’s thoughts, his features were locked in the same expression he had when she walked in.

            “Where are the two you had with you?”

            “Danse helped me locate two others of my crew. We left the four of them at a settlement known as Grey Garden while Danse and I found a way to get a message to the others. When we got back to Grey Garden we discovered it had been attacked and my crew was taken.” Shepard didn’t mention the alien part yet. She decided to wait and see just how the whole ‘space’ part went over.

            “The Institute is the most likely culprit,” Danse cut in.

            “Yes, they do seem to have quite a grip on the Commonwealth,” Maxson folded his arms and scratched at his beard thoughtfully. It was the first time she could read an emotion on him and all she got was: calculating. “You said ‘starship’,” he looked to Shepard then. She nodded. “What can you tell me about it?”

            She told him the general stats she knew off the top of her head. He listened to everything she said and asked questions when he didn’t understand a word she used. And then they moved on to her crew. Seeing that he handled the space part all right, she eased into mentioning the non-human crew.

            That got an eyebrow twitch from him, but otherwise, his expression remained neutral. Danse added in affirmation to back what she said at points that may have otherwise been unbelievable.

            And then they got to who the hell they are and where the hell they came from.

            She got the impression the only reason that Maxson believed a lick of what she said was because Danse backed her.

            “I’m from a different timeline, that’s the best way I can explain it. This is Earth, but it’s not the Earth I’m from. At the date…” she shook her head. “I’m from 2189, but my year is farther along in some ways and others it seems you have the upper hand. You also haven’t been contacted by one of the other alien species, so I’m not even sure if they exist in this timeline.”

            Maxson looked over at Danse. “The aliens were taken, but I assume you have something other than these suits to support what you’re saying.”

            “My weapons as well as the functionality of the suit,” Shepard said, not the least bit offended. It was easier to prove what she was saying when she had biotics and aliens right behind her, but for now, it was just her and Danse.

            “Show me.”


	17. Blast From the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get into a very alive Kellogg's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been a while since I've updated, especially this. School's been kicking my butt, but I really wanted to get back into the stories I love writing. This piece sat with the first half a page done since my last update, and I only just in the last couple of days got it done, I hope it's worth the wait. I hope I didn't lose anyone because of my long wait time.

**Sole**

            Goodneighbor wasn’t far from the location they’d picked Nick up from, which meant it was almost as far from Fort Hagen as they could get. And Kellogg wasn’t staying out for that long.

            Angel tied the mercenary’s arms behind his back and his ankles together. He also fireman carried Kellogg along until he woke up. Then the merc decided he was going to be the worst thorn in their side until Sole marched over and shoved a dirty rag in his mouth.

            She was surprised he didn’t try talking to Angel again, but it seemed the phrase he knew had been taught to him and he didn’t actually understand the language.

            With his mouth full, he wasn’t able to harass them, but he did wiggle around and cause Angel to knock into some wrecked cars. The noise drew some ferals, but Nick and Sole were able to dispatch them.

            He didn’t seem to be trying to escape, though, and that part worried Sole. She kept looking back at him as he kicked around halfheartedly, just enough to throw Angel off balance and get the alien to hiss and snarl in annoyance.

            By the time they got to the Boston Commons he settled down and was quiet. It seemed whatever was here he didn’t want the attention of. That was fine by Sole, it gave her a chance to put her back to him and ask Nick how much longer until they got to Goodneighbor.

            “Just a couple blocks,” he pointed on forward. “There’s a super mutant nest between here and there, watch your step, if we’re quiet, we can get past them without trouble.

            “As long as he keeps quiet,” Sole glanced back at their hostage and squeezed her fingers tight. As soon as he was no longer a use to them, she would toss him to whatever was in the Commons with blaring alarm clock strapped to his back.

            A smile tugged at her lips as she turned back around, following Nick onward.

            Kellogg settled down to quiet while they snuck through the streets to Goodneighbor. As they rounded the corner that would take them to the entrance, he started up again, but with more vigor. Sole sighed and went back, looking the mercenary in the eye as he glared and wiggled.

            Angel stopped and turned his helmet toward her, but didn’t speak or otherwise move. She narrowed her gaze on the man over the alien’s shoulder. “All I need is your brain, don’t give me another reason to separate it from your shoulders,” she hissed. Nick was frowning, but not in disapproval, he almost looked like he was… considering that. She didn’t care if the bluff made sense or not, she’d made it and she was sticking to it.

            Kellogg just looked at her, he didn’t wiggle, he didn’t look scared, he didn’t even look bored, he just… looked at her.

            “Good,” she nodded and waved for Nick to lead the way into the town skirted by piles of trash and piss.

            For a town with a reputation, she expected a grander entrance than a door set into a makeshift wall. Diamond City had the gate, and Goodneighbor had… this. Nick filled her in on the reputation of the place though, and advised her to stick close, and behind, him.

            He also suggested leaving Angel behind, but that wasn’t going to happen, and they both knew it, so the alien trekked right along behind her into the small doorway behind Nick.

            The smell of piss and trash was thicker here, coupled with cigarette smoke and maybe something rotting like a body. She couldn’t be sure, and wasn’t exactly interested in finding out. Nick didn’t busy himself with looking around or enjoying the sights, he simply strode right on ahead like he lived here, or had a friend he near constantly visited. The set up wasn’t terrible, Sole could vaguely remember what it looked like before the war. That building there was the Old State House, and there were the shops that sold souvenirs and since then had been turned into post-end-of-the-world shops of similar interest. One of them appeared to be a weapon’s depot while the other was a general goods. Nick didn’t allow Sole to really get a good look at either of them, instead, he walked right on past the decorative half walls, that had once made this area look nice, toward the alley that went on beyond the State House. Sole tried to follow close, but a man wedged himself between her and Nick, a lit cigarette between his lips.

            He grinned at her, lighting up his eyes and lifted his hands to show he was unarmed. He was an ugly thing, his face pitted with scars along his cheeks, and his head stripped of hair for one reason or another. He reeked and made her nose scrunch, but she held her glare and pointedly tried to circle him to get to Nick. The synth stopped where he was and turned, noting her lack of proximity, and started on his way back as the man before her spoke.

            “Well, well, well, a new face comin’ in with Nick Valentine. You a new Dick in Training?” His arms crossed and he encroached on her space again. He was quite a bit larger than her, but she didn’t move, instead she glanced over her shoulder to draw attention to Angel behind her who had fallen behind because of Kellogg slung across his shoulders and a rather narrow doorway to enter. Now that he was within view, the man in front of her followed her gaze and stiffened. When she looked back at him, the cigarette had fallen from his mouth and he’d paled as if seeing a ghost. “What the fuck is that?”

            “My assaultron, I recommend you backing the fuck off,” she growled and crossed her own arms. Angel took his place at her side, looking down on the man in front of them without much of a sound. Nick also didn’t say anything, standing back a ways as a ghoul dressed in a red frock coat came into view. Sole didn’t spare him a glance and watched the man in front of her shrink back, but try to play it off.

            “Look, all I was trying to do was help,” he showed his hands. “Obviously, you don’t need it.”

            “Live to breathe another day, Finn,” the ghoul said with a raspy voice. “What’d I say about hassling the new folk?”

            Finn backed up and shook his head, seeming to realize his mistakes and thinking better of making a scene here. Sole nodded once and waited for him to disappear before joining Nick beside the man in the Revolutionary War get up.

            “Sole, this is John Hancock, Mayor of Goodneighbor. Hancock, this is Felicity Sole, and her assaultron prototype, Angel,” Nick waved and then Sole shook the Mayor’s hand. He seemed to think the contact was funny, but didn’t say anything. His black eyes immediately rolled past her to look at Angel and his cargo.

            “And that is?”

            “Kellogg, kidnapper, murderer, and Institute Dog,” Sole answered before Nick could. The Mayor nodded and put his hands on his hips. She couldn’t help but stare at him a little bit. He looked like a human raisin.

            “What’re you gonna do with him?” He turned his attention over to Nick who gestured down the alley.

            “We need to get in his head. I figured Doctor Amari would be our best bet for such a task.”

            “Hey,” Hancock smirked and lifted his hands in a grand gesture, “at least he’s alive and intact. Have a good time, you three, and keep that bot close, will ya? I don’t need my guys putting a bullet in it. Institute’s been trying to pull some shit out here, some of the newbies are gettin’ jumpy.”

            “Will do,” Nick nodded and they left the Mayor to find this Doctor Amari. _The Memory Den_ shone in bright red letters above the doors Nick headed toward. It looked like an establishment that would have been there before the war, but Sole didn’t have any memory of it. Pursing her lips, she looked around and tried to remember anything significant. The hotel maybe –it had looked better before the war– and the closed up windows and doors told her not every business or home made it through the nuclear war like some.

            Nick held the door for her and Angel, and then retook the lead as they followed the entry hall around into a large room. Pods lined the walls on either side, and a raised platform held a sitting area with a woman reclining on a red couch. She grinned at Nick as he drew close, talking like old friends. Sole took the moment to check on Kellogg who was glaring around as if he thought his stare alone could free him. He didn’t seem to be trying to escape, or draw notice anymore, but Angel was carrying him like game freshly hunted, so, maybe the merc’s ego was a bit stained.

            “Sole, this way,” Nick called and she followed him down into the basement through a hall in the back.

            The woman Sole assumed was Amari started to speak before cutting herself off to gape at the alien hauling a live human into her office. “What is that and who is _that_?”

            Nick looked like he was trying not to smile. “Well, doctor, we brought you one of the Institute’s attack dogs, and that’s the gagged one.”

            “And… carrying him?”

            “My assaultron prototype,” Sole stated.

            Amari laughed, it seemed to surprise her as much as the rest of them. “That’s no robot,” she waved her hand at him as she spoke. “That’s organic, at least on the inside.”

            Sole stiffened and turned to Angel, motioning for him to put Kellogg down. He did and then she looked over to Nick. He seemed to trust this woman, but Sole wasn’t sure if she wanted to show off Angel’s true face. Nick hadn’t seen it yet either, and she still felt like exposing him to others would… be too much.

            “You’ve got a good eye, doc,” Nick said. Sole was about to cut in, but he continued. “But Angel really isn’t the issue right now, what’s in that man’s brain is.”

            Armari shifted as if she wanted to argue that point, but nodded once. “He works for the Institute? And you want in his head…” her gaze drifted to one of the pods.

            Kellogg let out a laugh, muffled by his gag. Sole turned to him and narrowed her gaze. “Will it hurt?”

            “It shouldn’t.”

            “That’s a shame.” Sole sighed and turned to the doctor. “So what do we do with him?”

            A few minutes later, Kellogg was strapped quite creatively into one of the pods. He could wiggle, but that was the extent of his movement. Flinging his head around seemed to be his favorite movement. Briefly, Sole wondered if he was trying to break his neck, she’d seen a show where a man did that to protect his friend’s information while being tortured.

            Amari started working on getting into his brain, but apparently, he had some sort of machine in his head that locked her out. The gagged hostage laughed as if he knew that would happen, but Amari tapped at her chin and pursed her lips. “Maybe if we hook you up to him?” she said while turning to Sole. “He can fight the computer, but not if you’re in there searching as well.”

            “Will he… be able to get into my mind?” she ask, her voice soft. She didn’t really want anyone in her head, especially Kellogg.

            Amari frowned and rubbed her mouth before nodding, “It’s possible. There would be nothing keeping him out, but if he’s trying to get into your memories, he’s not protecting his own.”

            “So, you can search his while he’s preoccupied in mine?”

            “Perhaps, I’ve never done this before,” she cautioned with hands raised. “I don’t know if any of this will work.”

            Shaun was alive and on the line. The only thing that stood between her and her baby was this asshole and a chunk of metal in his brain trying to keep her out. She could spare some of herself to get what she needed from him.

            “Okay,” Sole breathed and looked at Nick and Angel. “Will you guys keep close? If he ends up… getting too deep, I need you to pull me out.”

            “Will do, we’ll be able to watch on these screens here.” Amari gestured to the duel terminals and Sole nodded.

            “Okay, good.” She took a deep breath and turned to the unoccupied pod. Angel came up to her and tilted his head, chirping curiously at her. Sole had no way to tell him what was about to happen. She fumbled through a couple of hand gestures before deciding on tapping her temple and waving her hand away from her and then tapping her forefingers together before pointing to Kellogg and repeating the first two gestures: _My memories link to his memories._ It was the best she got, and Angel shifted as if he wasn’t sure about what she said, or how he felt about it.

            Angel rested a hand on her shoulder and then seemed to take a deep breath. He made a fist with his other hand and touched her chest. She thought she understood: _Stay strong/safe_. She smiled and nodded, thanking him with their hand gesture. Then his hand on her shoulder slid up to brush her neck and jaw. Her breath left her at the tenderness of the touch, and she bit her lip. Angel purred and took a step back, allowing her to get into the pod when she was ready.

            The pod was more comfortable than Kellogg made it look, but she didn’t need bound. Instead, she settled into the cushions and let Amari close the pod around her. Briefly, her heart leaped and she swallowed against a lump rising in her throat. This wasn’t like the Vault, it wasn’t the cryopods.

            She wasn’t going back into that dreamless sleep.

            She wasn’t going to lose any more time with her baby.

            She was going to find him, and save him.

            Sole took a deep breath with her eyes squeezed shut. She waited for the soft buzzing to start before opening them. There was a screen in front of her with _Please Stand By_ scrawled across it. Amari bustled around and finally settled at a terminal. Angel stood at the foot of the pod, looking between Amari, Nick, and Kellogg. His leg was shaking, almost like tapping his foot, but his digitigrade legs didn’t allow for his heel to touch, so it made no sound.

            “Now, I’m not sure how this will make you feel. I imagine disorientation and nausea will be the likely side effects, but once you’re done, I will have questions for you.”

            “All right, I suppose I’m ready,” Sole breathed and noticed the mercenary was vigorously wiggling in his seat. A last, fleeting attempt to free himself.

            “Just relax,” Amari said and Sole did her best to follow the order.

            Everything went white. The only thing Sole could sense was the music she hadn’t realized was playing. _I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire…_

 

 

            “Sole? Mrs. Sole? Can you hear me?”

            _Sole wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but standing in her pre-war living room wasn’t it. Dr. Amari’s voice came from everywhere, but nowhere: a singular voice with no point of origin. Sole turned around to try to place_ when _she was, and found the news on the TV._

_And Nate sitting on the couch._

_Her heart stopped and she grabbed her chest._ “Nate?”  _her voice cracked and tears welled up in her eyes as she came forward. He didn’t look up, instead, he sighed and rubbed his forehead, glaring at the reporter._

_“It’s going to be another hot one, Kitty,” he called over his shoulder. Sole turned in time to see a nine-months pregnant Felicity Sole come up the hallway in a bright dress, hair done up and hard as a rock. It looked so tacky after a week in the wasteland, it wasn’t functional and it wasn’t practical. It was a sign of wealth, not necessarily in money, but in time and effort, and care. She had wanted to look that way, and so she did. Now she didn’t have the time or the care, and it didn’t seem many people in the wasteland did either –those who did stuck out like sore thumbs._

_“I hate the heat, I get so sweaty,” Felicity said to her husband before sitting down beside him._

_Sole watched as Nate circled his arm around his wife’s shoulders and leaned into her, giving her a kiss and whispering sweet nothings._

“Mrs. Sole, I need you to focus on finding Kellogg while I search his memories,” _Amari’s voice cut into the scene like a voice over._

            “Okay,”  _Sole forced herself to turn away from the picture in front of her. She remembered this, just days before giving birth, and just months before they’d run for sanctuary and find it was anything but._

_She would wish to have died in the bombs if it wasn’t for the hope of finding Shaun. And because of Angel._

_With the thought of Angel, she noticed the front door was haloed with light. She went to it and pushed it open the wrong way, it gave way to a memory that wasn’t familiar to her instead of the pre-war street. The memory was post-war, and had a young man doing dishes with a young woman –they were probably her age, maybe a few years younger. They were talking about being new parents, and the moment the man spoke, Sole stiffened._

_It was Kellogg, a young, unscarred Kellogg with a woman and a baby whimpering in a crib. His words back during their fight came back to her:_ “How I would act in your shoes.” _She’d all but spat in his face. But this made it worse._

“Get out of here, Sweetpea, you really don’t want to go down this road,” _Kellogg growled behind her._

            _She turned and reached for her weapon, he did too, but they both came up empty. They were simple projections of their own thoughts, what they thought they looked like. She noticed he looked a little different, younger mostly, but she could tell it was still him. Sole wondered if she looked different too?_

“Afraid I’ll find a way into the Institute?” _she tried, crossing her arms stubbornly as his memory flowed around them, completely unaware of what was happening between the mercenary and the survivor._ “They won’t like you being the reason their security is breached.”

            “Maybe it was all a part of the old man’s plan? To find a way to get us to kill each other,” _he offered and put his back to her, going to the woman in the memory. She wasn’t a stellar thing, average in most ways, actually, but when she smiled her whole face lit up and Sole watched as both Kelloggs relaxed at the sight of it._

            “What happened to her?”

 _The sudden tension between them nearly choked her. He turned around and glared through narrow eyes at her._ “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

_A halo circled the door and Kellogg jerked toward it, before Felicity could get two steps, he was there, opening it. Warm light washed over them as something bright passed by the door. Kellogg’s memory faded and they were in the hospital Sole gave birth to Shaun at._

_She and Kellogg stood back as nurses and family bustled around the room while a very sweaty Felicity screamed and arched her back into the hospital bed. “Get him_ out _of me!”_

“Nice set of lungs,” _Kellogg complimented._

_Sole didn’t reply, instead, she watched the memory from this alternate perspective, silently knowing the longer they were here, the more time Amari had to find the right memory._

_The doctor passed right between her and Kellogg with Shaun, streaked red and crying so loud his back arched just like she had while pushing him out. Nate kissed Felicity’s temple and massaged her hand as she finally relaxed and allowed the nurses and doctors to do what they had to. He told her how good a job she did, and how much he loved her._

“I didn’t want to kill him, you know…”

 _Sole jerked around to see Kellogg staring at the intimate moment between her and Nate._ “Don’t you fucking–”

            “I know,” _he breathed and nodded._ “But I needed you to hear it. It was just business. If he wouldn’t have–”

            “If he wouldn’t have fought to hold onto _our baby_?” _she screeched at him._

_A halo circled the door behind them and Sole grabbed it before Kellogg could reply. They all but fell through this doorway right into a too familiar place, and Sole couldn’t tell whose memory it was._

_Vault 111’s crypods sat lined up before her, two people in strange hazmat suits were flanking a familiar looking Kellogg._

“Shit,”  _the Kellogg beside her breathed and touched his forehead._

_Sole marched forward and watched them talk, the one at the computer told them where to find her baby. Kellogg allowed the woman to lead him forward, he took his time, looking into the thawing pods. Sole went to hers and watched as Felicity woke up and looked around, groggy and chilled to the bone. Her spine tingled at the memory and she could feel gooseflesh cross her skin._

_“Open it,” Kellogg demanded. Felicity looked up and placed her hands on the glass, peering out at the scene before her. Sole watched with tears burning her eyes. She couldn’t do anything to change this memory. Felicity’s brown eyes widened when she Kellogg’s gun. She beat against the glass to get Nate’s attention, but she was so weak._

_Sole turned to see Nate huff and gasp, and Shaun began to cry. Sole’s mouth tugged down with the tears dripping down her cheeks. Nate tried to make sense of what was happening. His military training kicked right in. He didn’t just pull Shaun away, he kicked the woman away and threw himself at Kellogg as he drew his gun. He was so careful to keep Shaun safe it cost him the fight._

“Don’t look,” _Kellogg stepped between her and the men on the ground. The shot rang out and Sole stiffened, remembering the hope that it had been Nate that pulled the trigger. The woman crossed in front of Felicity’s pod, and picked up Shaun as he sobbed and wiggled. Kellogg pushed Nate off of him and stood, leaving him to decay there on the ground so that when Sole found him he was just another skeleton in a blue jumpsuit._

_Then Kellogg stepped in front of Felicity’s pod and sneered at her. “At least we still have the backup.”_

_Sole threw her fist threw the memory of Kellogg as he passed, and then did the same thing to the one that stood in front of her. Neither hit and neither made her feel any better._

“He should have just handed over Shaun,” _Kellogg sighed._

“And you would have handed over Mary?” _Sole snapped, eyes narrowed and puffy._

            “I’d have done exactly what he did.”

_A halo circled the Vault door and they both rushed for it, unable to push the other out of the way. Kellogg made it through and they fell out onto the Vault’s platform behind a very distraught Sole._

_Dressed in a Vault suit, and sucking up rads like a sponge, the other Sole barely made her way down the path back to Sanctuary, where Codsworth saved her and got her the medicine she needed to adjust to the new radiation levels. Kellogg and Sole didn’t speak as they followed behind and watched the pathetic display of survival in front of them. Even know Sole was disappointed in herself. Nine days in the wasteland, and she felt like she knew so much more than this version of herself had._

_Well, she did. It was simply the time it took her to learn it. The wasteland would have eaten her up had she not had a goal and an alien helping her along. It was the primary reason she believed that Nate should have been the one to make it instead of her._

_When they got to the front of her house, the front door was haloed by dim light and Amari spoke up,_ “I found it, hurry!”

_Kellogg growled and sprinted for the door, but Sole was already on her way there. She dove through the doorway before Kellogg and ended up in his house in Diamond City._

_The memory was Kellogg’s because he not only stood beside her growling, but sat across the room in a chair facing the door. But there was also a boy sitting on the floor reading comic books._

            _He had her brown eyes, paler than Nate’s with black freckles in the pupil. He had Nate’s nose, straight in the bridge, her lips, curvy and full, Nate’s chin, pointed, and her ears, small and round. He had Nate’s pale freckles along the bridge of his nose. The boy was Shaun, and he was at least ten years old._

“You monster,” _Sole breathed and dropped to her knees beside her child._ “You had him, you had him there, and you left!” _She looked to the Kellogg sitting in the chair._ “You say you didn’t want to kill Nate, but you’re not above stealing my baby and playing house­–”

            _The door opened and the sitting Kellogg whipped the revolver he was cleaning out, but stopping just before firing. Recognition crossed his face and he stood. “You have to be more careful, I could have killed you.”_

_Sole turned around to see a tall, black man in a long, black leather coat closing the front door with scary silence. “That would be regrettable,” the man said, his voice monotone. “You know I must limit my exposure to the humans–”_

_“Yeah, yeah,” the armed Kellogg huffed. He holstered his weapon and passed Shaun on his way to the new man. As he passed, he rustled her boy’s hair, drawing a snarl out of Sole._

“Your doctor friend is wrong,” _memory-explorer Kellogg crossed his arms and leaned against the nearby wall._ “There’s nothing here, just getting a mission from Top.”

            _He was playing it off well, but she could tell he was trying to distract her. The black man mentioned the target Kellogg was go get was a runaway scientist. Even armed Kellogg seemed surprised at the assignment. He asked whether or not this Virgil should be brought back alive or killed._

_The answer wasn’t shocking._

_“Eliminate the target,” the stranger said. He sounded like a robot, his voice flat and even, too calculated for a normal person, especially one ordering the death of a human being._

“Look at that,” _memory-jumping Kellogg spoke up, coming away from the wall. Sole turned to see the door glowing. But she didn’t move, she stayed right where she was while Kellogg raced over to it. She would stay here and finish this memory. It was important, and that’s why he wanted her out of it._

_“So, you’re taking the kid back with you?” armed Kellogg asked the stranger._

_“Yes, Father needs him.”_

“Who the hell is ‘Father’?” _Sole growled and stood between the stranger and Shaun. But she couldn’t keep the boy back. He walked right through her to the stranger and reached for his hand._

_“You’re taking me back to see Father?”_

_“Yes, stand beside me, Shaun.”_

“What are you doing to him?” _Sole snarled and got closer, looking at the way the stranger held onto her boy. She glared right into his reflective sunglasses, not seeing herself, instead, she saw Kellogg standing a few feet behind her. The Kellogg that came with her here was still at the door, steaming as she didn’t fall for his bluff. Whatever was about to happen–_

_“X6-88 ready to relay with Shaun.”_

_“Bye, Mr. Kellogg,” Shaun said and waved._

_Lightning flashed, striking down on both the stranger and her Shaun._

_“Bye…” Kellogg breathed and turned his back on the empty space where her boy and his kidnapper had been standing._

“Did they just…?” _Sole whipped around to look at the memory-hopping Kellogg. The memory faded and she was left standing in the merc’s house, just them and the tension between them._

“Teleportation… that’s why no one knows how to get in or out of the Institute,” _Amari’s voice broke through the silence._

            “You should kill me now,” _Kellogg said as he closed his eyes._ “They’ll know you learned this from me. They won’t take me back alive.”

            _Sole crossed her arms._ “Take me out, Amari, I’ve had enough.”

            _Way Back Home began to play, and everything grew bright until all Sole could see was white._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I hope y'all're still interested! Angel has my heart, I love this slow burn so much.


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